Chapter 1: Death is only the beginning
Fort Worth, Texas
December 29th, 2019
10:23 P.M.
*SMACK!*
"Goddamn it, where's the money you owe motherfucker!?" I shout as I rear my bloodied fist for another punch.
"*COUGH! COUGH!* Okay! Okay! It-it's in the closet! *COUGH!* The money's stashed inside the pocket of the blue suit jacket in there!" The debtor cries as he coughs up blood.
"It better be! Otherwise, there'll be more where that came come!" I threaten while unpinning him from the wall and throwing him to the floor.
I stomp over to the idiot's bedroom and fling his closet door open, nearly ripping it off its hinges. Inside I find the blue suit jacket he told me about. Yanking it off its hanger, I check the inner pockets and sure enough find the cash and begin counting.
"Three… four… five… six thousand. Okay, it's all here." I quietly say to myself before placing the roll of money into one of the pockets my hoodie.
Making my way out, I find the now ex-debtor sitting on his couch with one hand pressing on the open wound I made on his left temple. His hate-filled and blackened eyes glare at me as I walk towards the front door to leave. His face was already starting to bruise and swell up.
"You know, this could've all been avoided if you had just paid up on time instead of telling a loanshark to go fuck himself over the phone. Really, what the hell did you think was going to happen?" I ask while standing at the door.
His glare intensifies at my question. "You got the money, now get fuck out of my house you big fuckin' prick." He responds through gritted teeth.
I'm actually surprised that I didn't knock any out this time.
"Pleasure doing business with ya. And have a happy New Year's." I say before walking out.
I wait until I'm about a couple of blocks away before I call my boss.
"Got all of it." I say as soon as he picks up.
"Good. These goddamn kids have gotta learn that bad shit happens when they don't pay what they owe. That's part of reason why the world's fucked up right now. Except you of course."
"Yeah, agreed. I've already collected from the others who also decided they wanted to cough up their teeth, blood, and vomit instead of just our money, so I'm headin' back to your place now." I reply, informing him of my success at getting the money from the other debtors he sent me out for.
"Alright, where are you at? I can just come pick you up." .
"Nah Clyde, I can just take the bus. Thanks for the offer though." .
"Fine, just get my money back here. Then we can have a few drinks and watch the fight."
"Sounds good. I'll see you there." I say before hanging up and continue walking towards the nearest bus stop.
I then make another call.
"Hey mom, I'm just calling to let you know that I'll be over at Clyde's for a couple hours before I get home."
"Malcom, you know I don't like you hanging out with that man. One of these days, he's going to get into a lot trouble."
"Look mom, believe me; I don't like what I do. But we both know that we need the money I get from working for him to pay the bills."
"That's not the point Malcolm. Sooner or later you're going to end up in jail or worse if you keep doing those sort of things."
"Trust me mom, I'm pretty careful when it comes to 'work'. And… I'm pretty sure there's no one around here who can beat me in a fight. I'll tell you what; I'll only stay at Clyde's for a few minutes to wrap up business for the day and then come straight home."
"Oh Malcolm, you should never say that. There will always be someone stronger than you, it's just a matter of when you'll meet them. I love you."
"I love you too mom. I'll be home soon. Bye." I say before hanging up and placing the phone back in my pocket.
Mom's been worrying about me ever since I started prizefighting and collecting debt money for Clyde a few years ago. I guess she's worried that one of the idiots I shake down will eventually pull a gun on me, which is why I always carry one myself.
'One of these days, I need to get myself a ride. Fucking buses are always running late.' I think to myself before hearing a twig snap somewhere to my right. I stop and look towards where the sound came from, a front yard with a good-sized tree on the right side of it.
"Hello?" I say aloud, but I get no answer. So I decide to just shrug it off and continue making my way to the bus….
…..the fuck?
Standing about 20 feet or so away from me under a street light on the sidewalk is a legit fucking DEMON. An Imp to be more precise given the horns, pointed tail, and the literal red skin color though there appears to be white blotches present as well from what I can see. Judging by the clothes, it's a male Imp. His horns are fairly long, have a horizontal black and white pattern, and curve backwards over his oblong-shaped head. His yellow eyes glow in the dark as he flashes a yellow shark-tooth smile at me. And why do I get the feeling that I've seen this guy somewhere recently?
"We would've done this sooner, but watching you beat the shit out of all those losers was just too fun to cut short." The demon says to me with a voice that gives me the impression that this guy would be very annoying to be around.
"What are you talking about? What the fuck is this?" I ask while standing my ground. While this freak is a demon, he's also small, about the size of someone in their early to mid teens.
"Hmm, oh, right. Allow me to introduce myself. The name's Blitz; the 'O' is silent, and I'm the founder of the I.M.P.." the Imp now known as Blitz states.
The I.M.P.? The way the acronym is spelled is an obvious reference to Imps, but what does is stand for? And that voice again…. Wait a minute.
"Hey, you're one of those sick freaks from the news, the ones who killed that kid." I say to him, already guessing what his intentions are, and that his two buddies are likely here as well.
*CHA-CHIK*
The sound of a shotgun being racked right behind me confirms my suspicions. Looking over my shoulder, I find another Imp, slightly smaller than Blitz, with a sadistic grin and a Mossberg 500 pointed at my back.
"That's Moxxie, and over to your right is Millie. They're a couple." Blitz introduces his accomplices, quickly adding in that last part.
This seems to irritate Moxxie, making him drop his grin with a frown taking its place.
"Sir, can you at least try to keep things professional?" He asks in voice that I recognize almost instantly.
"Invader Zim?" I ask, slowly turning to face him.
"Wh-why do all you humans keep calling me that?" Moxxie asks right back, clearly flustered by my question.
"Dude, you sound exactly like the guy who voices that character." I explain.
"What? Honey, do I really sound like Invader Zim?" Moxxie asks Millie as he turns his head towards her.
And thus taking his attention off of me.
Springing forward without warning, I grab the barrel of the shotgun with one hand and shove it away from me and into the air.
*BOOM!*
Despite the deafening sound of the 12-gauge going off so close to my head and the muzzle flash nearly blinding me, I manage to remain focused enough to use my right hand to draw the Beretta 92FS I had concealed under my hoodie from its leather holster. Adrenaline now accelerating my movement to what even these demons would call inhuman speeds, I plant the muzzle of my weapon to Moxxie's chest.
*BANG!BANG!BANG!*
Pulling the trigger three times, I put three rounds of 124-grain hollow points through the white-haired Imp, who crumples onto the sidewalk almost instantly.
I'm almost fast enough to put another round through Millie's forehead before she's upon me with a knife. My shot instead goes wide and ricochets off the street before she knocks the gun out of my grip. Millie then tries to bring her blade down upon the spot in between my neck and left shoulder which I block by gripping her wrist.
"You're going to pay for what you did to my husband you fucking prick!" She yells in my face, clearly not happy with me putting down Moxxie.
I have to give her credit; she's actually stronger than she looks which is evident by how she's slowly getting her knife closer and closer to its intended destination. But unfortunately for her, I've made a habit of holding back my true strength. A habit I'm about to break just for her.
I tighten my grip enough to nearly crush her wrist, making her drop her knife. The murderous sneer she had a moment ago has now been replaced with shock. Balling my free hand into a fist, I ram it right into her ribs full force. Millie then doubles over; I think I might've felt a rib or two of hers break. I then wrap my hand around her throat and lift her off her feet. Looking around, I see a car parked alongside the street, so I take a few steps towards it and throw Millie right at it. The impact of the female Imp's body against the side of the car shatters the driver-side window and spider-webs the one behind it, as well as leaving one hell of a dent in the side of the car and setting off the alarm. I then start scanning the ground for my Beretta so that I can finish her off but stop when my eyes land on Moxxie's shotgun, I figure that using that would be even better. Prying it out of the dead Imp's hand, I walk back over to Millie who's just now getting out of her daze.
*CHA-CHIK*
Her eye's, of course, widen at that sound. Staring up at the large-bored barrel pointed at her chest, I only allow her to get two words out before I pull the trigger.
"Aw shit-"
*BOOM!*
Two down, one to go, only I don't see Blitz anywhere, and he didn't try to double-team me with Millie, so maybe the creep ran off. Whatever, I need to get the fuck out of here before the cops show up. I just need to find my gun first because it's registered to me, and if the cops were to find it here, they'll trace it right back to me, and I'd rather not deal with the bullshit that would come along with that.
"Seriously man, where the fuck's my gun-"
*BANG! BANG!BANG!BANG!BANG!BANG!BANG!BANG!BANG!BANG!BANG!*
Pain suddenly explodes all over my back and chest, enough to make me drop the shotgun and fall to my hands and knees. I look down to find my white T-shirt riddled with holes and turning red as blood begins to pour out of the exit wounds in my chest. Pretty soon I'm also coughing up blood, leaving able to only taste iron.
*SMACK*
Blitz, finally coming into view from behind me, pistol whips me with my own gun. And continues doing so as he shouts at me in anger.
"You fucking son of a whore! Why. Won't. You. Fucking. Die already!?"
That insult towards my mom was enough to set me off.
With the pain suddenly dulling as my rage took hold, I block the next incoming pistol whip and then start beating his fucking face in, roaring in fury as I did. This, however, lasts only a few seconds before the pain returns. Blitz's face is swollen and he's covered in blood, though whether it's his or mine I'm not entirely sure, but I'd put my money on it being mine.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, I need to get to a hospital. I'm already feeling light-headed, so it might already be too late.
It's at this moment that I make a decision that will ultimately seal my fate. Instead of just grabbing my Beretta and getting clear of the area before calling an ambulance and hoping that I didn't bleed to death, I yank my pistol out of Blitz's hand and reload it with one of the two spare magazines I keep on my left hip. Using the slide release to chamber the round that would send this demon back to Hell where he belongs. My hands shakily line the pistol up with his forehead with my finger finally resting on the trigger.
*CHA-CHIK*
I instantly turn towards the sound of the shotgun, and the one holding it was none other than Moxxie, and he was pissed.
"FUCK!" I scream as I try in vain to get off a shot at him.
*BOOM!*
The blast knocks me off my feet and onto the street, my Beretta clattering out of my reach.
Oh God, this is it. Dead at 24 at the hands of demons, and I have a good idea about where I'm going to find myself as soon as I close my eyes.
It's getting harder and harder to breathe and stay awake as all three of the Imps suddenly appear over me, a malicious smile plastered on each of their faces with the only evidence of any of the damage I inflicted being the holes in Moxxie and Millie's clothes and Blitz's still-battered face
"Hey Malcom, you want to know a little secret?" Blitz asks me in the most condescending was possible. He leans in a little closer.
"Nothing here in the Living World can kill us. So what you just did there was a big fucking waste of time. He says, a smug smile forming at the end of his sentence.
"Fu- *cough* fuck you." I reply defiantly with a death glare.
"Just one more thing before we end this, Malcom. Before you decided to play the badass, I was going to tell you that this is nothing personal, just business and all that, but you kinda made it personal back there. However this," Blitz reaches into the pocket of my black, blood-soaked hoodie and pulls out the $46,000+ I had collected today. "Could smooth things over between us. Now then," he walks away and picks up the Beretta before walking back. "Any last words you'd like to share with us?"
Thinking for a few seconds, something occurs to me. I use what little strength I have left to gesture all three of them to get closer. When they do, I say the next six, the last I'll ever say in my life, with as much anger and hate I can muster.
"I'll see you all in Hell."
Not only is that a threat, it's also a promise. When I get there, I'm going to hunt these three down and make them suffer in whatever way I see fit. My words seem to have been enough to wipe the smiles off of Moxxie and Millie's faces and make each give the other a worried glance. Blitz, however, only responds with an arrogant smirk.
"Yeah, good luck with that pal."
The last thing I see before everything goes black is the muzzle flash of my own pistol.