CHAPTER 50: HELL ON EARTH, PART 3
DECEMBER 20TH
As the morning sun scorches the cursed Earth known as Hellwood, another long day of torment comes to an official beginning for its prisoners. Those who manage to wake from their short nights of sleep, some never waking at all and finding some release to this place, and never sleeping at all from insomnia seeping into their brains, the prisoners of Hellwood all stumble to their feet to start a new day in one way or another; some merely scavenging for means to survive, others predators seeking prey.
The city was once a melting pot, but it has now blown to pieces with its many ingredients within scattered and separated. Here, they may separate themselves as the Europeans, the Middle Easterns, the Hispanics, the Asians, and the Africans; each of different descent and heritage, but no one, not even themselves, can deny where they are:
This is hell on Earth, and they are here to stay.
Regardless, there is one man who seeks to bring change to the state of his city. Remembering a time when this land was once known as Hillwood, a city of peace and prosperity, he seeks to see that dream realized once again, and end the pain of the prisoners of Hellwood.
This man is Arnold Shortman, known better to the world as the Green Eye. For a month, the city of Hellwood has presumed this man dead, and war and chaos run rampant on the streets he once protected, and the prisoners of Hellwood believe that there is no one left to save them.
But this is far from the truth. The Green Eye is not dead, and today is the day he will return to come to their aide.
Laying on the rooftop of the Sunset Arms with Helga Pataki tightly held in his arms, Arnold savors the feel of her soft, warm body against his; taking in every stimulation that came to his senses from her presence. With a long mission to come from this point out, the only thing he wanted at this moment in time was to remember what and who he was fighting for, and what it meant to him.
Rising from the ground at last, Arnold began making his way back down to his room, preparing himself for the mission that laid ahead of him. Placing back on his uniform of the Green Eye, once again entering the persona that came with it, he felt good to be back in the costume once again.
Taking a look in his mirror, he took notice of a decently-sized beard growing on his face, the hair a blonde like his head. Scratching at the beard and feeling it on his face, he felt unsure regarding how he liked the new growth of hair resting on his chin, feeling it to be a departure from how he normally saw himself.
Covering herself with their blanket, Helga stepped into the room, sharing a view of his beard and providing her own comments.
"I kind of like it. Makes you look more... manly." Helga said.
"Heh. Thanks. At least that's one person who likes it. I think it makes me look too much like Green Arrow. Funny thing is I haven't even touched a bow before." Green Eye said.
Taking a look at Helga, the Green Eye noticed her signature pigtails were absent from her head; something he only passingly acknowledged last night, but hadn't brought up until now.
"No pigtails anymore?" Green Eye asked.
"I got tired of them. Made me feel too much like a little girl, like I was weak and helpless." Helga said.
"I don't think you're weak and helpless."
"Yes, you do. You of all people know that best. You saw Curly shoot me in the chest a year ago, and I nearly died in your arms. I should've done something to defend myself then. I've always been someone who's stood up for myself."
"Helga, don't blame yourself. You didn't do anything wrong, and you don't have to face anything alone."
"I faced this hellhole without you for a month. I can take care of myself, you know."
Getting frustrated with their conversation, the Green Eye let out a sigh to vent his temporal anger.
"There are a lot of people who couldn't. I'm glad you were fine with my parents, but I've got to get back out there and help them. All this pain, all this chaos caused by Curly and everyone else he's joined with; Willie, Wolfgang, and... and Lila." Green Eye said.
Noticing a sense of further frustration in mentioning her name, Helga reached out to touch him, taking it as an opportunity to explain her play in his continued infatuation.
"Listen, Arnold, about Lila-" Helga began to say.
"I don't love her anymore, not like I do you. I just... I just wish that I hadn't had those feelings for her back then." Green Eye said.
"But I didn't tell you, it's because of me that-"
"No. Helga, you had nothing to do with it. I don't ever want you to think that any of it is your fault."
"You don't get it, football head, it is my fault, I'm the one who-"
Gripping her head in his hands, the Green Eye silenced Helga's confession short once again, leaving her unable to finish the sentence.
"Helga, listen to me. You. Didn't. Do. Anything. It was on me, and me alone. Never blame yourself for something that's my fault. Okay?" Green Eye asked.
"But, Arnold, I-" Helga began to say.
"Okay?"
Once again failing to give her admission, Helga gave a sigh, holding his hands as they gently held her face.
"Okay." Helga said.
Giving her one final kiss before his departure, the Green Eye began making his way back through the sunroof, heading out to complete the mission at hand. Left without a chance to share her part in his former infatuation with Lila, the lone Helga held her head down in shame, grasping her hands within one another.
She feels a guilt like no other holding this information to herself, and only hopes that her fiancee will hear her out one day.
Back into action on the streets of the city once known as Hillwood, the Green Eye runs from rooftop to rooftop, exploring his environment once again to gain a familiarity with the changes brought upon by the blast of the bomb. With the many changes brought to his city, the experience of learning his surroundings all over again is nothing sort of a challenge in itself.
Once, he had known this city better than he had known himself; familiar with every corner and section of the city and able to navigate it with ease and grace. Now, the landscape has changed so much, the people so different than they once were, that he cannot make his way through the old streets of Hillwood as he once did. Like encountering a lover of years past, nothing is the same, and there is much more to learn now.
Making his way back down to the ground, he instead decided to choose a simple route of patrolling on foot. Ensuring that he was not yet recognized by any potential troublemakers, wishing to reveal his return at the right time, the Green Eye commandeered a large scrap of cloth, using it to cover himself as a hooded cloak.
Patrolling his way down the streets of Hellwood, his mind was once again flooded by the pain and despair that the prisoners of the city of hell feel on a new daily basis, and still never used to their emotional states bombarding his. Just as he had viewed the previous night, the streets were a spectacle of pain and misery that made the city warrant having 'Hell' in its name.
People either wandered the streets or remained stationary in small corners that they found fit to squat in, or laid across the roads in apathy over their lives coming to an end. Those few that found some manner of entertainment chose to spend it on nihilistic outlets, like one group of children smoking and drinking beer, a naked man aggressively masturbating in solitude, or a group of young men huddling around a boom box playing Bad Religion's 'How Could Hell Be Any Worse?', a fitting choice of music for their surroundings.
Each of these people had no drive left in themselves; left to rot in a prison made of their old city home and unable to find anything else to live for. Nonetheless, he did not let these negative emotions take their toll on him, instead letting them drive him on to right these wrongs that have come to his city.
In search of one such wrong to right, it would soon arrive for the Green Eye.
The city of Hillwood was best known for having its share of neighborhoods and communities within its larger body; each one like a set of organs serving to fill a greater body. Just as each organ is filled with and built up by living cells, it is the people of these communities that give them life and purpose with their hard work.
Following the collapse of government and society in Hillwood, where many portions of the city had fallen to a total lack of sense of belonging or purpose, many of these communities have overcome these trials and have been brought closer to one another; working together to build a better life out of what they could still work with, such is the case with a series of apartments on Viksten Street.
With one man owning a generator and another knowing how to make biofuel, their community has power. With one woman knowing gardening and a neighbor having the roof space to grow food, their community has food. With one man an expert scavenger and another knowledgeable on how to break into abandoned buildings long locked up, their community can acquire any items they may need.
These people have a society that works.
[Soundtrack Cue: KMFDM - Brute]
Alas, despite all their expert plannings, there is still one facet that they did not cover: Defense. As such, this community has now found itself under the attack of a gang of lawless brutes calling themselves the 'Fist Kings'. Dressing in rugged leather and sporting colorful mohawks, a stylistic fashion seen rarely outside of a Mad Max film, these barbarians come to take whatever they want, in any way they please.
Riding into the small town on motorbikes, the gang members began their raid on the community, pillaging and plundering it at their leisure. Pulling men and women out of their homes, beating many of them senseless, the Fist Kings took whatever they sought for their own interests, and tossed away whatever they did not care for.
Taking items such as food and other goods and collecting them, the Fist Kings sifted through items like family heirlooms, children's toys, and pillows and blankets, tearing them apart and tossing the broken remains out in the street. With little else of their interest inside the homes, they tossed molotov cocktails and other incendiary objects inside the destroyed homes, leaving what was left to burn to the ground.
Gathering up the townspeople to the center of the community, laying them out on a small grassy park in the center of the apartment complexes, the Fist Kings sought to take control of this small makeshift village, taking all its resources for themselves and leaving the people to rot and die.
Catching ear of screams for help in this community, the Green Eye quickly rushed his way to the birthplace of this terror, coming to it shortly to find most of the action long passed. Standing apart from the scene, he kept a watchful glowing green eye on the affair, analyzing the situation as it was unfolding.
[Soundtrack Cue End]
As the Fist Kings had taken their share of the community's offerings, the gang was still not contempt with their bounty, believing there to be more in store in this commune for them to take. Standing before the subdued civilians, the leader of the Fist Kings began interrogating for the rest of the supposed supplies.
"Tell me, which one of you is the leader of this rinky-dink utopia?" The leader asked.
The members of the community did not answer the question; all bowing their heads in fear.
"I asked you a question. Which one of you leads this little commune of yours?!" The leader asked.
Once again, the leader of the Fist Kings got no answer, further adding to his frustration. However, there was one woman spoke up from the group.
"We... We don't have a leader. We just work together to survive." The woman said.
The community members were expecting a sense of dissatisfaction to come from the leader of the Fist Kings, but they did not receive any such reaction from the tall, burly man. Instead, the leader of the Fist Kings secured a pair of blades across his wrist, chuckling as he did so.
"So, you're all a bunch of communists, huh? No leader whatsoever? Well, don't you know that this is America, where we've got no room for commies? We beat the Russians years ago, we'll beat the Chinese now, and we'll beat you just the same. This is America, the land of the free and home of the brave. Right now, we're free to take whatever we want, and, unfortunately for you, none of you are brave enough to stand up, now, are you?" The leader asked.
Just as the leader had bluffed, none of the members of the community had stood up against the Fist Kings, leaving their leader to laugh at their cowardice.
"That's right. You commies are all too yellow to do anything. But I know you commies can't help but share everything with each other, no real sense of property, so maybe you can help me out. See, I know that you've got more food than just a few cans here and there; the Czars would hoard all the food to themselves while everyone else had to get in line for a loaf of bread. Well, we've got the bread, so where's the rest of it?" The leader asked.
The crowd once again stood in silence, leaving the leader start to gain frustration at their lack of answer.
"Nobody wants to talk, huh? Well, even commies have to talk every now and then." The leader said.
Spotting a teenage girl out of the crowd, the leader set his sights on the young woman, gaining an idea to make the civilians talk.
"Then again, maybe you don't have to say anything. After all, we don't really need all that food so badly. But you do owe us something here, and we can find other ways to take our payments instead." The leader said.
Grabbing the girl that caught his eye, the leader dragged her out from the crowd and pushed her up against a wall, with two other Fist Kings holding her in place for their leader. The parents of the girl protested her treatment, rising to fight back for her, but were quickly subdued by two other Fist Kings.
Taking notice of the treatment of the young woman, the Green Eye realized that he could no longer stand by, preparing his attack by picking up a brick.
Groping at the chest of the teenage girl, the leader ripped off her shirt, exposing her bare breasts and causing her to scream and struggle. Throwing a sharp punch to her face, the leader sent the young woman hanging limp; blood seeping from her nose and groaning in pain.
The leader then began removing his pants, preparing to take his 'payment' out from the girl.
Before he could make good on his threat, however, a brick had flown its way to the back of his head, shattering against his skull and leaving him staggering to the ground as his consciousness began to fade in and out, leaving him falling to the ground with his bare bottom sticking out of his pants.
Subsequently picking himself up from the ground, the leader pulled his pants back up, putting aside his carnal desires for the more pressing issue at hand.
"What the fuck-? Who threw that?! WHO THE FUCK THREW THAT?!" The leader shouted.
Stepping forward from the sidelines, the Green Eye stood before them, glancing straight at the leader of the Fist Kings as he and everyone else looked at him. Because of the large cloak he covered himself in, no one had yet recognized the figure as the man without pain.
Even had he been recognized, it would hardly matter to the leader of the Fist Kings, as his only concern now was ending his life.
"Don't just stand there, get him!" The leader shouted.
Sent at the beckoning of their leader, the Fist Kings all rushed towards the hooded Green Eye, carrying with them various melee weapons like machetes, spiked bats, axes, and other such handheld weapons. Arming himself with nothing more than his bare fists, the Green Eye continued over to the leader of the gang, wading through his subordinates like they did not even exist.
Brushing them off with punches and other blows of his fists, the Green Eye knocked the approaching Fist Kings with ease, continuing his course straight to their leader. As the members of the community realized that this person was not so easily defeated and was here to save their lives, the leader of the Fist Kings calculated that he was not going to survive on his own unless he had some leverage.
Grabbing his would-be victim of the teenage girl, the leader of the Fist Kings took a handgun to her head, holding his hostage tightly as his attacker approached. When the Green Eye had downed the Fist Kings, leaving naught but himself and the leader left, he shed his cloak, revealing his identity to those watching the spectacle.
Gasps of the leader of the Fist Kings and the others put a brief pause to the entirety of the situation, giving the Green Eye time to retrieve a handgun of his own from one of the enemies he had downed. Holding the gun to the leader of the Fist Kings, the target had held his hostage closer with his own gun to her head, cowering close behind her.
"Back off, man! I'll kill the bitch!" Believe me, man, I will! Believe me!" The leader shouted.
Not faltering in his aim, the Green Eye, utilizing his heightened senses and superhuman abilities as a Spirit Master, fired a bullet straight to the precise spot needed to gain the outcome he desired. Squeezing the trigger of the handgun, the Green Eye set his plan into action.
Hitting a precise number of muscles and nerves needed to move his arm away from the girl's head, the leader instead fired his shot towards the Green Eye, making the bullet pass straight through his shoulder. Under the pain of the bullet entering his arm, the leader released his grip on the girl, letting the Green Eye continue on his plan of attack.
Knocking the gun out of his hand, the Green Eye thew a series of punches to his chest and stomach at superhuman speeds, letting out his anger upon the leader of the Fist Kings and ensuring that he would not continue on the path of a marauder as he had on this place.
Landing one final blow to his forehead, the leader of the Fist Kings had fallen to the ground; the raid of his gang following with him. Taking his cloak back from the ground, the Green Eye threw it over the young woman to cover her modesty, leading her to snuggle in his arms for a place of safety.
Showing one last act of dominance over the leader of the Fist Kings, the Green Eye looked at him as he laid defeated, saying...
"I believe you." Green Eye said.
Returning the girl to her parents, her mother and father quickly welcomed her back in their arms, giving a happy conclusion to the horrible encounter that she had suffered under the Fist Kings and their leader. Elated to see their daughter delivered safely from their evil, the parents enthusastically gave their thanks to the Green Eye.
"Bless you, Green Eye. God bless you. You saved our daughter." The mother said.
"It's nothing. I'm sorry that I've been gone for so long and unable to help anyone, but, I assure you, that's not going to happen again. I'm not going anywhere until this city is fixed again, and you never have to suffer like this again. You have my word on it." Green Eye said.
Though the promise of the Green Eye gave some comfort to the parents, the wound on his shoulder brought concern for him, with the father addressing it aloud.
"Hey, aren't you supposed to have some kind of healing power?" The father asked.
"Yeah. Why do you ask?" Green Eye asked.
"Is your shoulder still supposed to be bleeding like that?"
Taking a look to his shoulder, the Green Eye found that the wound had still been present; an event that he was not used to seeing. Having the power to heal himself from injuries such as this one, such a wound would have been closed and gone by now, but, against all his expectations, it was not.
Touching the wound, the Green Eye felt some of his blood as it seeped out, inspecting it further.
"It's... It's not. It shouldn't be." Green Eye said.
Elsewhere in Hellwood, far from any affair of the Green Eye, there brews one that will soon come to his attention as it develops here at Quigley Stadium, current home to the Freak. Populated by his most essential subordinates, the Freak chooses to stay solitary most of the time; a man making an island of himself on an island of hell.
Today, however, there are guests present for reasons best known to the Freak himself, invited to further his agenda. Though the most important of the guests have already arrived, there is still one who decides to make himself fashionably late to this newly called for party.
That person is, of course, the man on everyone's mind: Lars Rodriguez, A.K.A. El Cucuy, wearing a parody of an Xbox Live achievement, with the picture being a view of a woman's spread legs and the text saying 'Virginity Hunter - 69G Fuck Her Raw'.
Arriving at the gates of Quigely Stadium while stretching out his arms, holding a cigarette in his lip, El Cucuy took out his cigarette and flicked it away as he stepped inside. As he entered the sports center, an armed guard had stopped him before his next step, ensuring his identity before allowing him in.
"Halt. Do you have an audience with the Freak?" The guard asked.
"Yeah. The boss-man gave me a call across that weird-ass telepathy thing he does, told me to come here. I'm guessing he told you about it?" El Cucuy asked.
"I'm assuming you're this 'El Cucuy' character?"
"...Seriously? The big-ass robot arm and my fucked-up Frankenstein face don't give it away? Exactly how many people do you think look like me, dumbass?!"
"I was just asking. You don't have to be rude about it."
"Fine, whatever. I was just in the middle of getting some good pussy when he called me. Try to understand, I'm starting to get blue balls, and I get really pissy when I get blue balls."
"Yes, of course. Well, right this way, sir. He's expecting you."
"Right. Thanks, I guess."
Stepping past the guard, El Cucuy lacked the auditory and mental perceptiveness to catch an insult whispered under the guard's breath.
"Asshole." The guard mumbled.
Heading into the stadium, El Cucuy explored the empty surroundings of the sports center, getting an unsettling quietness and solitude from a place built on noise and excitement. Left alone with his (little) thoughts and self, he wandered the halls of the stadium in hopes of finding something to catch his amusement.
While not intentional, he had completed his goal by meeting with the Jolly Olly Man, giving him a slight startle upon meeting the large man.
"Whoa! Jesus, man, you trying to give me a heart attack? What are you doing here?" El Cucuy asked.
"The Freak called you too, I'm guessing. So, I guess I'm just killing some time like you are now. How you doin'?" Jolly Olly Man asked.
"Eh, just lost my chance to get some most valuable vag, so pretty horny and pissed off. Don't suppose you know where I can get some good pussy 'round here, do you?"
"Right here, as a matter of fact."
The Jolly Olly Man took a bite out of a small plastic bag that held what appeared to be calamari inside, which he had been snacking on during his stay.
"Oh, shit, you brought some calamari? God, I'm fuckin' starving, let me have some!" El Cucuy said.
Reaching in and grabbing the supposed calamari, El Cucuy began chowing down on it, chewing the snack with delight.
"Mmm, that's not bad at all. There's a weird kinda taste to it, though. What'd you bread this with?" El Cucuy asked.
"Just some panko. It was the only one that would stick to labias." Jolly Olly Man said.
Hearing the implications of the sentence, El Cucuy ceased his chewing, inquiring for clarification on the contents of the snack.
"Come again?" El Cucuy asked.
"Yeah, that's not calamari. Those are cuntflaps freshly snipped off of some little girls, straight from my personal stash. Taste pretty good, don't they?" Jolly Olly Man said.
Immediately getting extremely nauseous from the information given, El Cucuy found himself unable to focus on giving an answer.
"Uh..." El Cucuy trailed.
"What? You said you like eating pussy, right?" Jolly Olly Man asked.
"Yeah, I did say that, but... I... You see... Excuse me for a second, will you?"
Stepping out of sight of the Jolly Olly Man, El Cucuy quickly rushed himself far away from the cannibalistic killer, putting plenty of distance away from the two. When ensuring that he was not anywhere near him, he quickly and violently spat out the contents in his mouth and vomited the rest, ensuring that no trace of the human flesh would enter his stomach.
"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ... I forgot this nigga was a fucking cannibal..." El Cucuy coughed.
As the disgusting 'food' was removed from his mouth at last, El Cucuy received a pat on his back, leading him to stand straight to attention once again in a state of fear. To some manner of relief, the face that he was greeted with had the American flag tattooed over it, signalling to him immediately who this person was.
"Oh, shit... Never thought I'd say this, but, thank god it's just you, the Nazi bastard." El Cucuy said.
"Right back at ya, spic. You doin' alright?" Wolfenstein asked.
"Well, I just almost ate some little girl's deep-fried pussy lips because that cannibal fuckhead Jolly Olly failed to tell me what that shit was before I tried to eat it. I thought it was calamari."
"Ha! Should've known better, spic."
"Yeah, whatever. So, Quigley Stadium, huh? Never was a big baseball guy, hockey was always my thing. What's this whole thing the Freak's planning here?"
"Hell if I know. Hey, never mind that right now, I'm actually real glad I found you. I got a present for you."
"Really? You, a Nazi, wants to give me, a Mexican, a present?"
"Yeah. I got something you'll love: Pussy."
"Ooh, now you're speaking my language, my Aryan friend, just lead the way."
Escorting his dark-skinned acquaintance down the halls of the Quigley Stadium, Wolfenstein led El Cucuy to the 'present' he was referring to, held in the arms of two of his subordinates: A young girl barely at age 12; her skin a white even paler than Wolfenstein's. Seeing the young girl laid before her, El Cucuy looked back and forth at her and him in confusion.
"Uh... What exactly's the present, again?" El Cucuy asked.
"Her. I know how much your kind love raping white women, so I figured I'd give you one for yourself to say thanks for saving my ass back during our own 1776 moment a month ago." Wolfenstein said.
"Uh... She's got to be like, what, 11? Plus, why are you giving me any white women at all? What'd she do to you?"
"Turns out her step-daddy was a nigger. For all we know, he could've put that dirty black dick of his in this little slut, but, even if he didn't, she's been way too swayed and turned race traitor on us. In either case, if she goes black, we don't want her back. So, I give her to you."
"Dude, she's like, only 11. That's way too young, even for me."
"What do you mean, too young for you? Aren't most of your people pedophiles anyway? I thought you'd like her."
"Okay, first of all, I'd say 'that's racist as shit', but I know you're a Nazi, so, I at least expect some racist shit out of you already, but, that's like, a whole new level for you. Second, I don't fuck anything under 14. 14's right when all those hormones get all fired up and they want the cock the most, but, before that... it just feels wrong as hell. I don't want her."
"Well... suit yourself."
Taking a knife out of his boot, Wolfenstein grabbed the girl by her head and sliced his knife across her throat, leaving her to choke to death on her own blood. Watching the young girl die right before his eyes and killed so mercilessly by a man, if such a word could apply to him, El Cucuy felt a strong disturbance in his soul.
Wolfenstein took notice of his reaction, trying to offer a condolence to what passed as his friend.
"What? Hey, man, don't sweat it. She was a race traitor, no big loss. That dirty nigger probably stuck his ugly cock in her every night while she slept, she started crying when we shot the darkie in front of her, poor traitor's better off dead. Think of it this way: We put her down humanely. If I didn't do it that way, she would've just been sold off to Jolly Olly. I figured she at least deserved a better death than that. Don't you agree?" Wolfenstein asked.
"Uh... yeah, sure. Whatever you say, big guy." El Cucuy said.
"Hey, tell you what: I'll try to keep an eye out for a nice, pretty Aryan woman for you to rape, full-grown this time. If anything, it'll make seeing her punishment all the more sweeter for her crimes against her own race."
Looking for a quick way out of the conversation, El Cucuy spotted an excuse by way of the sight of Saint Lila in prayer, as well as a way to sate his libido.
Of course, most of it was long gone with the horrors he had suffered here, but that would never stop him from trying.
"Actually, Wolfie, you just forget about that right this second. I got my eyes set on something else." El Cucuy said.
Taking a look at Saint Lila over his shoulder, Wolfenstein realized El Cucuy's plan, but gave his disapproval of the idea.
"Oh, her. I wouldn't try it, man. This woman's way too nuts for you. My dad always said: 'Never stick your dick in crazy.'" Wolfenstein said.
"Hey, man, trust me on this. Religious chicks are all about the cock, even though they won't say it. They always take it in the ass, which is fine by me. I've never fucked a fire-crotch before." El Cucuy said.
"Well, best of luck, man, she's all yours."
Quickly moving his way away from Wolfenstein, El Cucuy made his way over to Saint Lila, preparing to seduce her in a smooth and sensual way that only he could deliver, which is another way of saying that he fails at it completely. Nonetheless, the two set up a good conversation in the beginning, putting a promising start to his sexcapade.
"Oh, hey, there. We haven't gotten a chance to get properly introduced. I'm El Cucuy, one of the baddest of badasses in the world, but you can just call me Lars, all the ladies do." El Cucuy said.
"Yes, I know who you are. You have served the angel quite well. I can tell you are a faithful servant of god." Saint Lila said.
"Yeah, well, I'm plenty good at servicing, if you catch my drift. I bet a chick like you doesn't get laid that much, huh?"
"No, the lord has blessed me with the experience of orgasm by way of one of his faithful servants, Joey. He has recently called him to return to home in heaven, but he was quite experienced for his young age."
"Aw, lost somebody close to you? I can help make you feel comfy at night again, if you like. Hell, the Nazi tried to make me fuck an 11-year old girl before he offed her, I'll gladly take you instead."
"11 years... A little older than Joey, but how good to see the young go to live with god at an early age."
Though believing himself to have made better progress with Saint Lila, her last sentence brought concern to his mind once again, making him question for more.
"Uh, wait a second, you said that this Joey kid was younger than the girl?" El Cucuy asked.
"Yes... I think 6 or 7... but he was so sweet. He reminded me so much of Arnold." Saint Lila said.
Lustful thoughts swarmed in her head of the man she supposed to be the second coming and the young boy she had taken advantage of, leaving her to lick at her finger and suck on it as she began grinding her legs together. Watching the display of her arousal, El Cucuy, for one of the few times in his life, was disgusted by the sight of watching a woman become turned on.
"Little Joey was so skillful, and blessed with a good endowment for a boy of his age. I felt like the virgin Mary, the mother of Jesus herself, teaching him to learn himself as a man as Mary herself would have taught the son of god. I had believed him to be an answer to god's calling, but I realized only later what my true purpose is. I am here to be the wife of the messiah as he has come to save the Earth, and the messiah has come in the form of Arnold. Joey was but a vessel in that path, and he served only to help awaken my womanhood for Arnold. Still, I would be sinning by lying if I said I did not enjoy our time together. He made me feel so good every day, and I returned the favor gladly." Saint Lila said.
Following the end of the holy woman's insane rant, El Cucuy's sex drive had, for the first time in his life, completely dwindled down to a state of nothingness; as if his libido had collapsed in on itself into some manner of a black hole that ate away any feelings he had for coitus. If his genitals could retract, they would.
So, the only thing that he could think to do was to retract himself from the situation.
"Uh... yeah, real cool stuff. Hey, uh, listen, I think that I left the stove on at home, I'll catch you later, okay? Okay, bye." El Cucuy said.
Running away from the pedophilic preacher as quickly as he could, El Cucuy sought to seek shelter in the first room he came across, entering through a door to a room where he did not care what lied within; putting his back against the door and sliding down to the floor with his eyes closed.
After letting out a deep breath and opening his eyes, he had quickly wished that he had looked before he entered the room.
Standing before a grotesque display of mutilated and torn bodies, like some manner of surreal art collage presented by Vince Locke and Takashi Miike, the center of this room of pain was the Freak, reaching inside a vivisected woman hung on a meat hook, where he was slowly removing organ after organ from her body.
As El Cucuy let a quivering whimper from his breath, the Freak turned around to greet his friend, smiling as he bid his welcomes.
"El Cucuy. Glad you could make it." The Freak said.
For a man known as having murdered various people during his ventures as a supervillain, raping and sexually harassing dozens, if not hundreds, of women both adults and underage, being involved in the Ocean Shores Incident, (unknowingly) setting forth a chalk drawing clone of himself to terrorize a karaoke bar, participating in the Silver Senitnel Scandal, and contributing to the destruction of Hillwood, El Cucuy is surely no example of a moral arbiter...
...but surely no one can judge him when he asks this question:
"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!" El Cucuy shouted.
The victim of the Freak had shown herself to not be dead, turning her head to look upon El Cucuy for help.
"Help... Please, help me..." The woman choked.
Reaching inside her open neck, the Freak grabbed her vocal chords and ripped them out, letting her raspy, quiet voice be cut short in an instant.
"DON'T INTERRUPT WHEN THE ADULTS ARE TALKING!" The Freak shouted.
Tossing away the vocal chords, the Freak cleared his throat to answer El Cucuy's question.
"Good question. I'll have to get back to you on that." The Freak said.
"Oh, the hell with this shit." El Cucuy said.
Running back out the door to the torture room, El Cucuy set his sights not on anywhere in Quigley Stadium, but to remove himself from the establishment as fast as possible. Rushing down the stairs of the stadium, he ran past the guard at the front gate he had previously met, leaving the stain on the Earth as quickly as he could.
"OHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGOD...!" El Cucuy shouted.
"Hey! What happened in there?! Don't you still have the... Asshole." The guard said.
Making his escape from Quigley Stadium, El Cucuy had finally reached his destination, the one place where anyone could prove any help to him now:
Lloyd Manor.
Being faced with an electric fence in his way, a step up in security following his previous visit, there presented a new challenge by way of reaching the mansion once again. Too determined to get away from any association with the Freak or any of his confederates again, he forced himself to climb up the ladder.
Grabbing onto the electrified fence, El Cucuy was instantly electrocuted by its high current, feeling his heart start to beat irregularly and his bladder control start to loosen, but, having survived worse affairs, he was determined to get up the fence and over it to the other side.
But not without his complaints every step of the climb.
"OW...! FUCK...! SHIT...! PISS...! COCK...! ASS...! CUNT...! DICK...!" El Cucuy shouted.
Finally tumbling over the fence and making it to the other side, El Cucuy fell to the ground, resting following the painful torture he had put himself under. Leisurely reaching a look into his undergarments, he had found that the affair had left him expunging more than one bodily fluid involuntarily.
"Oh, shit... I came... and I didn't even get to dump it in someone..." El Cucuy whined.
Feeling a shadow fall over his eyesight, El Cucuy looked up to find the person of his interest standing over him: Valiance, holding his sword to his neck.
"You've got a lot of nerve showing your face around here, and a lot of guts to climb over a 10,000 volt fence. You're not trying to kill yourself. I know you're stupid, but I know you're not that stupid. So what do you want?" Valiance asked.
"Look, man. I know you don't like me, and I don't really like you guys either. But we both like the other team a hell of a lot less. Believe me when I tell you: I want nothing to do with those assholes anymore. What do you say we make a deal?" El Cucuy asked.