Hellraiser: Sloth
by Bloody Simpson Chibi
(Disclaimer: I don't own either of these series. I just write this shit for fun.)
(NO YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH! I DON'T WANT YOU TO MAKE A COMIC OUT OF MY STORY! I WANT ACTUAL FUCKING REVIEWS FOR MY FUCKING STORY SO FUCK OFF AND LEAVE ME ALONE! I'M NOT GONNA GIVE YOU ANY FUCKING MONEY! GO GET KILLED AND LEFT IN A DITCH, YOU STUPID FUCKING COW! FUCK OFF!
Gotta be honest here, I did not think I was going to get started on another Simpsons/Horror crossover so soon. And yet, here we are and I gotta admit, it's gonna be kinda awkward since this story begins in a similar manner to my Bart & Chucky story. Don't worry, though. The two will diverge in plot before long. After all, Cenobites are a totally different issue to deal with than killer dolls.
As with the Child's Play crossover and all other crossovers I have planned, I intend to keep this series short but sweet, giving just enough time for the two worlds to collide perfectly.
Now I believe I've wasted enough time. Let's just get on with the torture, shall we?)
Chapter 1: Stupid Sexy Puzzle Box
Homer Jay Simpson woke up with a sense of dread that morning. The reason? Although he could not remember it for the life of him, he knew he had forgotten something.
It was something important too, something he knew he would get in a lot of trouble for if he couldn't remember what it was in time. Naturally, he first assumed it was his wedding anniversary. He always seemed to forget that. Then he remembered they had that last week at the Fry-Your-Own-Squid event at the Frying Dutchman. He shivered in his bed as he could still feel the squid's suckers all over his body.
He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and checked to see if he had been smart enough to leave himself any reminders. But the only one to be found was a reminder to eat the last porkchop that, somehow, survived last night's dinner. All thought and worry over the forgotten event was itself forgotten as Homer's mind glued itself to the meaty snack.
"Mmmm...leftover porkchop!" Homer drooled.
Carefully, he got up from his bed and tip-toed to the kitchen. He got sweaty as the stairs seemed to creak with each step he took. Once he had finally made his way to the kitchen, he wasted no time opening the fridge and pulling out the leftover porkchop. Not bothering with throwing it in the microwave, Homer ripped a huge chunk of meat from it, smacking his lips as he chewed.
"Ahh, that's the stuff." He said to himself contently. Just as he was about to take another bite, however, he heard humming coming from the dining room, followed by the sound of light hammering. Curious, Homer shoved what remained of the cold porkchop in his pocket and peered inside.
In the dining room, carefully sticking the second nail through the top-left corner of the banner she was putting over the window, was Marge. From the four corners of the ceiling floated bright pink balloons and on the table was a bright green present with a yellow bow on it. The banner Marge had just finished putting up read in bold white colors:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY LISA!
That was it. That was the super important thing that Homer forgot about. And the revelation of that made him scream out loud.
Marge turned around at once to her husband's shrieking. "Homer!? What's wrong?"
"Guh!" Homer gulped and chuckled nervously. "I-I mean n-nothing's wrong, honey! I just thought I'd...uh...scream out all the frustrations from yesterday so I can have a good day today!"
Marge looked at Homer blankly.
"I...read it in a health magazine at work."
Marge stared at her husband for a few seconds more before turning her attention back to the banner. "Well, while you're here, can you bring Lisa's present to the table?" She started hammering the nail. "I want to make sure everything's all set before the kids come back from school."
Homer gulped. "L-Lisa's present?"
"Yes?" Marge turned back to her Homer with a slight glare in her eyes. "You did remember your own daughter's 9th birthday, didn't you Homer?"
"What?" Homer scoffed. "My good madam, I am disgusted, appalled even, that you would even inquire such a ridiculous question!" He spoke this in his most gentlemanly voice as he approached his wife. "For shame, good madame! For shame!"
"Alright then where is it?" Marge asked with her arms crossed. This move seemed to suck all the steam from Homer's bravado and his arms fell over his sides as he deflated.
"It's uh...It's in the car!" Homer suddenly rushed out of the dining room. Marge turned to the window and saw her husband, still clad in his pajamas, rush to his car and pull out of the drive way. A few seconds later, he pulled back with a scream, ran back inside, and after a few minutes, ran back out in his usual outfit. He sped off again, kicking up a cloud of exhaust, all while Marge watched. She sighed once he was gone from her sight.
"That Homer can be so self-centered sometimes." She commented. "Oh well. He does have all day to find a present before Lisa gets home. I'm sure he'll be fine." With this, Marge continued humming her tune as she wandered into the kitchen to prepare the birthday cake.
"D'oh, where am I going to find a smarty pants gift at this hour?" Homer whined as he drove through town. If there was one surefire way to stress Homer Simpson out, it was forcing him to shop for Lisa. It wasn't that he disliked his oldest daughter. He loved her the way a father should. But damn if the two weren't from completely different worlds. For fun, Homer would watch a baseball game with his bar buddies and drink himself stupid but Lisa? Her idea of fun was reading! Not even comic books like Bart but honest-to-goodness-no-pictures-500,000 word-sleeping-pill books! It hurt Homer's brain to even fathom how anyone could find that fun.
Homer was pulled from his misery by a vibration in his pocket. He took out his phone to see a reminder that he was late to work. "No time for that! I gotta head for the book store!" Homer shouted as he tossed the phone to the backseat and slammed his foot on the gas.
This turned out to be completely unnecessary as the book store was right at the first corner. Homer had to slam on the brakes to stop in time, crashing into the pole outside the shop. One Hans Moleman happened to be walking by and was squished by the pole as it fell. Homer ignored the groaning old man as he rushed to the entrance of the store. "I'll just ask what's the most popular, cheapest book around. That will prove to Lisa I love her! Huh?"
Homer slowed his pace as he noticed a sign on the door. Through the glass, Homer could see the darkened interior, indicating that the store was closed.
"Wha?" Homer ripped the sign off the door and read it out loud. "Due to a infestation of giant silverfish, Books, Books and Additional Books is closed for the foreseeable future. We apologize terribly for the inconvenience." Homer grumbled as he balled the paper up in his hand. "No stinking fish is gonna keep me from making my daughter happy!"
With a determined battle cry, Homer rushed to the door and pried it open. As soon as he did so, however, he was suddenly swarmed by a mound of silverfish the size of tarantulas. Homer screamed as he fell back outside, the insects crawling all over him and beneath his clothes, biting him and scratching him with their feet.
"Ahh! I'm being attacked by giant insects! Save me, Jack Black!"
Homer rolled, crushing a good amount of the silverfish. One of the grey insects jumped off from Homer's head and tried to scurry away, only to bump right into the boot of an old vagrant. The vagrant grabbed the silverfish with enough force to crush it and bit its head off as he watched Homer struggle with the rest of them. He was just getting back to his feet, covered in bug guts and bites. "Oww! Stupid mutant silverfish."
"You seem to be in wanting," The vagrant stated as he shoved the rest of the silverfish in his mouth.
"You're telling me," Homer groaned in agreement. "I was trying to buy a book for my daughter's 9th birthday but I guess I failed again." He sighed heavily. "Say, you wouldn't by chance know of any other book stores, do you?"
"No," The vagrant said. "But I have something with far more knowledge within it than any earthly book!"
"Knowledge eh?" Homer rubbed his chin. "Lisa likes knowledge!"
"Then follow me." The vagrant beckoned to Homer as he backed up toward the dark alleyway besides the closed book store. Homer was a little uneasy, having seen far too many drug deals and whackings happen in dark alleyways in movies. He thought back to his daughter and the silverfish-infested store and decided whatever fate awaited him in that alleyway would still be preferable to letting Lisa down. And so, Homer followed the vagrant.
"Umm...nice place you got here," Homer said uncomfortably as he found himself as the end of the alleyway, standing before the vagrant. To say that the man was dirty would fail to do him justice. He was absolutely filthy, his beard and hair literally crawling with maggots. His clothing consisted of a coat, pants and hat, all tattered and stained to hell and back. On his feet were a pair of black boots, coated in...something Homer decided he was better off not knowing the true nature of. The stench he gave of would have been unbearable to Homer had he not become nose-blind to his own odors years ago. As Homer watched, the vagrant removed something from his pockets and smiled, his teeth yellow and mismatched.
"Um...buddy. Just full disclosure, when you say more knowledge than any book, you don't mean drugs right? Because I'm sure Lisa hates that stuff."
"No drugs, this be." The vagrant explained. "No drug could hope to give you the same experience as this," He opened his hands, revealing a puzzle box. It's gold and black patterns gave it a beauty clashing with the scum it was surrounded by. Homer had never been one to appreciate intricate design, not even in food, but not even he could resist being awestruck at the box presented to him.
"Ohh...mystery box!" Homer said in almost a trance. "What's inside?"
"A world of experience and sensation," The vagrant explained. "A dimension of black miracles and sinful victories. A realm beyond even your most vivid imagination." He pushed the box toward Homer. "Solve the puzzle and it's yours."
Homer's interest wavered a bit. "Aww, I have to solve a puzzle? Then forget your stupid box!"
At that moment, Homer's brain kicked in.
"You stupid idiot! The box is for Lisa, not you! And she loves smarty-pants puzzles!"
"Oh yeah!" Homer cleared his throat and reached for his wallet. "So how much is this box anyway? I gotta warn you, I only have tens on me!"
The man shoved the box into Homer's stomach, causing him to lurch forward as he grabbed the box.
"It's yours, my friend." The vagrant whispered as he backed into the shadows of the alley until only his eyes and teeth could be seen. "It's always been yours." With this, the man closed his eyes and lips, sealing himself off in the darkness. And then, he was gone.
"What a odd fellow," Homer commented as he looked down at the box in his hands. He smiled. "But I must say, he peddles a good mystery puzzle box." Homer turned back toward his car, his fingers caressing the intricate markings of his new prize. Curious, he looked down at it again, a single eyebrow raised. "What's the deal with this thingy anyway?" He asked himself as his fingers continued to drag along the box. "I get it's a puzzle but how am I supposed to-
At that moment, Homer's fingers pushed a portion of the box within itself, causing the other half to rise up. Homer gasped and then giggled as the sections fixed themselves back into place. "Oh, I get it!" He beamed. "It's like a old-timey Rubik's Cube!" He tickled his chin. "I wonder if I can peel the stickers off and put them on the same side..."
Homer suddenly caught himself coveting the box and slapped his head. "What the hell am I thinking!? This is a gift for my daughter! Not for me! Besides, she's the one that likes stupid old puzzles!" Homer happened to glance down at the box once more. "Stupid...old...tempting...forbidden...puzzles...Mmmm."
Homer reached for the puzzle box again, caught himself once more and shook his head violently. "What the!? Why am I coveting a stupid puzzle box so much? Maybe I'm hungry." Homer walked up to his car, got in, and threw the cube in the passenger's seat. "I'll grab a quick bite at the Gulp 'n' Blow and it's off to Wraps-R-Us for wrapping paper!" Homer started his car and made a beeline straight for the Gulp 'n' Blow. He ordered nine tacos, three for each flavor that had as the special of the day and a large order of onion rings.
As he waited for his food, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and watching other cars pass by on the road before him, he found himself glancing at the box again and again. It began with just a mindless glance at first, but the more times Homer did it, the more he realized to his horror that it became harder to pull away. It was as if something was calling to Homer from within the box, something ancient, something beyond wonder. Much to his shock, Homer found himself licking his lips over the thought of what could happen if he solved the box. He realized what he was thinking and whimpered in fear, mostly because he realized he was willing to solve a puzzle to see what the box had to offer.
"What the heck's wrong with me? I've never been a puzzle guy! I can hardly get through one of Maggie's jigsaws without falling asleep. So why am I feeling this compulsion to solve that stupid box? To experience its dark miracles. Taste its sinful victories...Mmmm sinful victories.."
Homer shouted in fear.
"Keep it together, man! This is a present for your daughter, not you! You're just hungry! That's all!"
The Squeaky-Voiced Teen knocked on the window with Homer's food in a brown bag.
"Now just eat your food and shut up about the box already!" Homer took the food, paid the boy and drove off. He figured he'd simply eat his food while on his way to Wraps-R-Us to save time and took out a taco. Normally, Homer's eating would simply consist of him chomping the food once, maybe twice, and swallowing it like a duck. As he took his first bite of the taco, however, he found himself overwhelmed by the combined flavors of the beef, cheese, onions and secret sauce. He subconsciously slowed his chewing in ensure the flavor lasted longer in his mouth and only swallowed once it began to fade. He felt a little bit of sauce trickle down his chin and licked it up.
"Wow," He awed. "That had to be the tastiest taco I've ever eaten! But I don't understand, I've eaten tacos from the Gulp 'n' Blow dozens of times so why..."
Homer trailed off as he noticed the onion rings in his bag. Carefully, he picked one out, studied it for a moment and bit into it. Once again, he was compelled to savor the sensation of the onion juice trickling down his tongue. He devoured the onion ring in two more bites, relishing in the crunch that followed.
"Oh my God!" He whispered as he swallowed the onion ring. "It's like I'm enjoying food for the first time in my life! Really experiencing the joys of eating! Really taking in the sensations!...Sensations?"
He looked back to the box and thought of the old man's words.
"A world of experiences and sensations! Solve the puzzle and it's yours!"
Homer found he could not pull away his gaze from the box, even as he drove down the road. Even more startling, he didn't want to.
"Happy birthday, dear Lisa!" The crowd sang. "Happy birthday to you!"
"And many more!" Moe hung on to the note for as long as he could before erupting in a coughing fit. "Dammit!"
"And there's butts galore on Channel 4 and your head is in a bowl of-
"Bart, stop it!" Marge demanded.
"Yes, Ma'am!" Bart crossed his arms with a grumble.
Marge turned to Lisa and beamed. "Alright Lisa, now blow out the candle and make a wish!"
Lisa looked around at all the faces gathered around her. She recalled a time where everyone seemed to have forgotten her birthday and she cried herself through a song along in the kitchen. That time seemed so distant now, and even though her father wasn't here at the moment to join in the fun, she still found this day a top contender for one of her best birthdays ever. Nonetheless, she mentally wished for the new Malibu Stacey Space Station/Mansion set and blew out the candles, resulting in overwhelming applause.
"Alright!" Moe said as he rubbed his hands together. Now it's time for that sweet, sweet cake!" He licked his lips, only for his excitement to turn into concern as Marge gently pulled the cake away.
"Now, Moe! You know we don't start eating cake until Homer gets here." Marge wagged her finger, although she set it down once everyone in the room groaned. "W-Which I'm sure will be any minute now!" She reached under the table and lifted up Lisa's present. "In the meantime, let's start opening presents!"
Lisa gasped. "Mom, are you sure?"
Marge nodded. "I really want you to start with this one. I should warn you, it's sort of a hand-me-down but I think you'll like it."
Curious, Lisa gently undid the yellow bow and tore open the green wrapping, revealing a plain box with a lid. Lisa removed the lid and and gasped as she lifted an old book from it. "A first edition of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens!? This is beyond old!"
"It was the same book my Grandmother used to read to us at Christmas time when he were kids."
"Yeah, at least until it got to the Ghost of Christmas Present," Selma butted in.
"Then she went for a smoke break and never came back." Patty added as she smoked her own cigarette. "What a woman."
Marge cleared her throat. "The point is, this was a very special book to us and now, I want it to be important to you, even if it's still a long way to Christmas."
"Oh!" Lisa got up from her seat to hug her mother. "Thanks Mom!"
"Yeah yeah," Bart said as he placed his present on the table. It was little more than a plastic bag with what appeared to be a rock inside.
"Um...a rock?" Lisa asked as she examined the bag.
"Open it!" Bart demanded. "Open in before it suffocates!"
"Suffocates?" Lisa tore open the bag and pulled out the rock, only to scream as it suddenly lapped its tongue across her wrist. "Ahh! An live oyster!"
"Neat, right!" Bart asked. "Now you can have a steady supply of pearls for your necklace!"
"Bart, you do know it takes up to four years for a oyster to make a pearl right?"
"Lisa, haven't you ever heard that patience is a virtue?" Bart challenged with arms crossed as Lisa rolled her eyes, the oyster still in her hand.
At that moment, the sound of a car pulling up caught everyone's attention and all looked through the dining room window as Homer got out of the car, a cube-shaped present in his hands. He rushed inside and made his way to the living room, taking a moment to catch his breath.
"Homer, are you alright?" Marge asked as she approached her husband, patting him on the shoulder. Her husband was coated in sweat and if she didn't know him better, she would assume he had been running.
"I-I'm better than ok!" Homer declared through a wheeze. He wobbled over to where Lisa sat, plopped the small present down before her and ruffled her hair. "Happy birthday, sweetheart." He planted a kiss on her forehead and turned back toward the doorway. Murmurs sounded from the crowd and Marge, not enjoying the kind of gossip that could be forming right before her, rushed after her husband. "Homer, are you sure you're alright?"
"I'm fine, Marge!" Homer assured her. "Really, I feel like a new man!"
"Homer, what happened while you were out getting a present for Lisa?"
"Oh nothing important," Homer waved his hand. "Just learned to feel things again is all."
"Feel things again? What do you mean?"
Before Marge could ask more questions, Homer placed his finger on her lips and shushed her. "I...have some stuff to work on in the garage. Save me a piece of cake?"
"Uh," But before Marge could object, Homer planted a kiss on her cheek, said, "Thanks, honey!" and left the room.
Lisa, while as befuddled as everyone else, looked down at her present and decided to open it. It had a yellow bow with red paper and as she tore it all away, her confusion only grew as she removed what was in the box. "Two coupons for half-off my next taco at the Gulp 'n' Blow?" She turned to Bart. "Are there even any vegetarian options at that place?"
"I'm pretty sure the onion rings don't have any meat in them, I think." Bart pondered.
Marge sighed as it would seem her husband once again failed to buy the kids a decent birthday present. She turned to the group and held up the cake. "Well, Homer's back so let's start cutting cake everyone!" She set the cake down, grabbed the nearby knife, and started cutting.
"Come on! Come on, you stupid-Grr!"
Homer struggled with the box in the garage. It was late and the party guest had long since left. All of his kids were asleep in their beds, he was sure about that. As for Marge, he wasn't sure, at least not until he heard a knocking on the door.
"Homer, are you finished in there?"
"Almost!" Homer called back with his eyes still fixed on the puzzle box. "Just give me five more hours!"
"Homer, whatever you're doing in there can wait until tomorrow! Come to bed already!"
"D'oh!" Homer shouted. "Oh alright! Be up in a second." He listened for Marge's footsteps as they faded away and looked back at the cube and pondered continuing to fiddle with it, his fingers inching toward the next section. At that moment, however, Homer thought back to the food he had enjoyed, really truly enjoyed back in the car and an idea came to him. Reluctantly, he placed the box on a shelf and pushed a rusted old tool box in front of it. Then he left the garage and made his way to the master bedroom. Marge was already in bed, dressed in her pink nightgown and reading a book. She looked up as soon as she heard her husband enter the room.
"Well, there you are!" She said. "Homer, I'm starting to get really worried about you."
"You know what will fix that? Sex." Homer crawled onto the bed and started kissing Marge's neck, making it a point to be as gentle and tender as possible.
"Oh Homer," Marge groaned. "I'm not in the mood. I really think...oh...ohhh!" Marge felt a slight and pleasant tingle throughout her body as Homer continued to kiss her. Carefully, he pulled her closer and moved up to her mouth where she returned the favor. There was something...different about this kiss, about Homer's weight against her body. It was apparent but didn't feel heavy, even as Homer pushed her down on the bed and climbed on top of her. The couple began to make out passionately, that tingling feeling growing stronger and stronger between them with every passing second.
That night, Homer was able to confirm his suspicions about the box and sensation and thus his addiction to the strange object grew.
Neither him nor his wife had any clue of the hellish consequences awaiting them.
The following week saw Homer tinkering with the box at every given opportunity. He brought it to work with him and messed with it all throughout lunch and the emergency alerts. He once brought it to Moe's to see if any of his friends could help solve it. All this action resulted in was Lenny and Carl getting into an argument over the origin of the Rubik's Cube and Moe beating Barney into unconsciousness with the box. (No one noticed it absorbing the blood leaking from the drunk's head.) Homer even brought it with him to the shower although he was never able to make it far as the water made his hands slippery and he kept dropping it.
All thoughts of friends, family, food and what crazy show was on TV tonight faded with each passing day as Homer was consumed by the box. He started skipping meals and when any of his family, Marge included, tried to talk to him, he would reply with as few words and with as low of a voice as he possibly could. They worried but did not try to intervene. Surely, Homer was just going through another one of his whacky-jerkass adventures. Surely, the consequences would catch up to him and he would have to tell his family what was going on, right? Even with Homer as serious as he was, there was nothing too terrible and strange going on. They had to believe that.
The consequences came for Homer about a week after Lisa's 9th birthday. The kids were once again at school and Marge was out shopping with Maggie in tow. A toxic waste leak at the plant forced Mr. Burns to allow the employees to stay home for a few days and thus, Homer was by himself in the house, well, save for Grandpa who was currently sleeping on the couch. Homer was once again sitting in the garage, shirtless and sweaty, trying to solve the puzzle box.
"Come on...damn you...grr!" Homer took a moment to wipe the sweat from his forehead. "I really need to buy a fan for this place." He glanced over to the pile of white shirts he sweated out. "I'm running out of clean shirts!" Homer sighed and continued to caress the box. By now, he was certain that he was close to solving it as he had been finding more and more movable sections which he had managed to click into just the right spaces. In fact, Homer was almost certain that he only needed one more section, one more little move to finally unlock the ultimate secret of the box. His tongue dragging itself over his lips, Homer desperately searched for that last remaining section, his key to victory.
His key to Sensation.
"Come on...come on...just a little more..." He quietly begged the box. His bloodshot, half-closed eyes lent only blurry vision to his cause but nonetheless, Homer persisted. The box almost seemed to dance within his fingers with how much he turned it over in his search for that final section. Every so often, Homer thought he could hear something like a roar or a low growl but ignored it to focus on the box, until at last, he found the final section at the bottom.
"Whoo Hoo! I did it!" Homer shouted. "I did-
The box suddenly leapt from Homer's hands and onto the floor before him. As the exhausted man watched, the box opened up into a flower shape, twisted, and then returned to its original form. Homer sat there and waited, watching the box, waiting for something else to happen, for a sensation unlike any he had ever known to arrive.
But none did. It was just him and the solved and disappointing box.
"That's...That's it!? A whole week of messing with a glorified Rubik's cube for that!?" Homer groaned as he realized just how much time he had wasted on that damned cube and groaned even harder as he realized he had allowed the box to dupe him out of getting a proper present for Lisa. Disappointment turned to anger as Homer remembered the vagrant that sold him on the box in the first place. "That homeless bug-eating jerk!" He shouted. "When I get my hands on him, I'll-
Then a bell tolled. Homer froze up as he heard the noise and looked around desperately for its source. "A bell! Oh I hope it's not tolling for me!"
Homer screamed as the garage was suddenly shook by a light tremor. Boxes and tools fell to the floor and Homer's car came to life in a blinking and honking mess. Homer whimpered as he struggled to his feet. One he was finally up, he noticed a unearthly blue glow from beneath the garage door. He could make out shadows moving through them, beings walking just outside his garage, waiting.
"Oh my god!" Homer squeaked. "I'm being abducted by aliens! Save me Agent Fox Mulder!"
A blue line of light suddenly formed down the middle of the garage door and the tremor rocking the garage intensified as it split. The two halves of the garage door were dragged away from each other like the stone doors of an ancient and forgotten city. The blue light infiltrated the room, bathing everything in it, Homer included. The patriarch of the Simpsons clan continued to tremble as four figures appeared from the light. For a moment, they were but shadows given form. But as Homer's eyes adjusted to the pale blue light surrounding them, he was able to fully behold their horrible visage.
One had no visible eyes, ears or nose. Just a gnashing set of teeth, the lips peeled back with wire. Homer found himself unintentionally copying the creature, his own teeth chattering in fright. The creature next to it matched Homer in girth, sunglasses adorning its bloated, grey face. The one standing next to it seemed to be the only female among the group, wispy strands of hair blowing behind her skull. She stared at Homer with the gaze of a hawk studying a field mouse it intended to rip to pieces. There was a large hole in her throat but she seemed completely unaffected by it.
The final creature, the one approaching Homer with each step echoing through the garage, bore a grid-like pattern all over his bald head. Within each intersection of the grid emerged a large iron nail. As with the woman, the man did not seem to mind his horrid injury, his expression as he locked his jet-black eyes with Homer one of quiet contemplation and perhaps contempt.
"Oh...Oh my god..." Homer whimpered. "He's got some sort of...pin-head!"
"It would serve you well to not refer to me by that name again," The man spoke, his voice deep and intellectual.
"W-Who are you guys?" Homer asked fretfully.
"Explorers in the outer reaches of experiences." The man answered. "Angels to some, demons to others."
Homer's intense fear gave way to confusion for but a brief moment. "Wait a minute! How the hell does that work? How can you jerks be angels and demons?"
"Silence." The man demanded.
"Yes sir!" And right back to fear Homer went.
"We've come to your world because you have called upon us." The man explained.
"Called upon you?" Homer asked. "T-There has to be some mistake! All I did was solve a stupid puzzle box!"
"Puzzle box?" The pinned man bent down and picked up the box in question. "Do you mean this box?"
"Um...yeah..." Homer tapped his fingers together in fright. "J-Just a stupid old puzzle box."
The pinned man's eyes narrowed. "Oh no. No mere puzzle box is this."
"It is a gateway," The female creature spoke up, her voice raspy yet deep at the same time. "A means to summon us!"
"And now that you have opened it," The pinned man spoke. "Your new destiny awaits you in our realm."
Homer screamed in mortal terror and made a break for the door. He hardly got within a foot's reach of it before he heard the sound of a chain flying toward him. A split second after, Homer screamed again as he felt something hook itself into the back of his head.
"Gah! Ow! What the?" Homer grabbed the object and ripped it out with force, tearing some skin and flesh from the back of his head in the process. He gasped to see it was a steel hook connected to a grimy blood-caked chain. Homer followed the chain and whimpered as he saw it feed deep into the blue light, into the horrible, horrible realm these monsters wanted to drag him to. Homer ran to the door again and grabbed the knob. He uttered a chocked gasp upon realizing that it was locked and banged on it with all his might. "Dad!" He cried. "Help me! A bunch of weirdos with piercings are trying to take me to another dimension!"
"Resistance is futile!" The pinned man shouted as more chains flew by him and ensnared themselves into Homer's naked back. He screamed in agony as the chains pulled, his flesh stretching like chewed-up gum as blood painted his back. "Come on, dad!" He pleaded. "If you ever wanted to be a good father for once in your life, now's your chance!"
"Your father cannot save you now," The pinned man spoke. "Nothing can!"
Homer shrieked as he was pulled back with enough force to tear the knob from the door. He let go of it and clawed at the cement ground as he was dragged toward the monsters. "No, no! I don't want to go into the blue light! Not unless it's the light of a neon moon!" Homer noticed his car and grabbed the rear bumper. The car wheeled an inch toward the light but stopped, giving Homer a moment of reprieve if not relief as his bloody back ached. As with food and sex, Homer realized with horror that he was feeling pain more sharply than before as well. He groaned as he felt the chains continue to pull him toward oblivion.
"Your insistence in prolonging the inevitable is to be commended." The pinned man spoke as he raised his hand. "However useless it might be."
With a snap of his fingers, a chain ten times the size of the other chains flew past the pinned man and hooked itself into Homer's back. The sudden agony forced Homer to let go of the car and he found himself once again helpless to save himself from the blue light and whatever unimaginable nightmare might be lurking beyond it.
"No please! If I'm gone, who's gonna pay the bills? Who's gonna feed the dog? WHO'S GONNA RECORD THE REAL HOUSEWIVES OF CAPTIAL CITY FOR MARGE ON WEDNESDAYS!?"
That was Homer's final sentence as he vanished into the blue light, his screams fading in the distance. Once all was quiet again, the four beings followed after him, one after the other until only the pinned man was left. He fixed the box back into its original position and placed it on a shelf behind a tool box, the same spot Homer had hidden it from his family not but a week ago. Then he followed his entourage back to his home.
There was much work waiting for him there. Much flesh to rend, a new Cenobite to birth from the pit of sin.
He vanished into the blue light which faded as the two halves of the garage door became whole again and all was quiet in the garage once more.
"Alright, alright. quit yer bellyachin! I'm up! I'm up!" Grandpa opened the door, flicked on the light and looked around the room. Once he noticed Homer was nowhere to be seen, he grumbled to himself. "Oh I see how it is! Wake the old man up from his nap and get out of dodge, huh? Is this what passes for a prank these days?" Grandpa trembled with anger. "Well you can go to Hell for all I care!"
With that, Grandpa flicked off the light and slammed the door behind him.
(I really should be more excited about this. I really should. But thanks to those stupid fucking bots clogging up my reviews, I feel hardly any joy, knowing they'll just be clogging up this one as well. Please, please, leave an actual review only. I don't want to make any commission, I don't give a fuck what your handles are. I'm on to your scam so just fuck off and let me enjoy the only good thing I have in my fucking life!)