Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Dr. Filth Vs. Necrolord

Part 2

Electricity had been shut off to Dicknixcem when mole people were caught jacking into the system. Dr. Filth could not see who approached. The moans became groans and yelps and the stomping feet indicated a large group of unhappy people approaching, and even though they couldn’t see, they knew Dr. Filth was there.

Ditching the bike and diving for cover, Dr. Filth was able to make out a face in the moonlight. That was Mike Mancini, who’d disappeared last week. He’d been a wedding photographer until Metro City’s ban on all traditional and non-traditional marriage knocked the bottom out of the business and left him delivering cannolis for Vito’s down on Dekalb. Mike’s eyes were blank, glowing blue-white in the reflecting moon, and his lips hung open around a slack jaw.

The zombies tore into the falafel box and it was broken from the bike frame. This clutch of zombies were the missing deliverers Dr. Filth was looking for. They were consumed with their hate for the very instrument of their destruction. Falafel sandwiches flew about and many hands worked to smash the bike. Dr. Filth would have waited until dawn and called for backup had St. Eva not launched into the fray.

She moved like a choreographed dance, spinning and dipping and ducking between zombies, landing attacks with fists and feet. She wore only a long white scarf around her neck. No shoes, no gloves. Each connection was luckily timed to snap necks and spines. There were many zombies though, and Eva was quickly surrounded. Dr. Filth convinced himself to be her luck.

He came out of cover already shooting his Desert Talon. The muzzle flash was like tiny stars born and dying in the night. Stray gunfire never hit St. Eva, so Dr. Filth fired with impunity.

A gunshot to the head was not required to kill these zombies, which was good. Dr. Filth could barely hit the broad side of a barn in the best conditions. The zombies were tightly packed so that he hit a few, but for the most parting his shooting served only as distraction.

St. Eva was ready to capitalize. Dr. Filth saw her first as a rustle in the ranks before bodies started dropping. Dr. Filth reloaded and emptied his gun until no one else was standing.

“I guess we know the answer,” Dr. Filth said. “Zombies. No more admittance to Dicknix. Simple solution.”

“Don’t you want to investigate?” Eva asked.

“No,” said Dr. Filth. He’d convinced himself so.

“Something turned each of these deliverers into zombies,” Eva said. “I’ve got a feeling it’s in that church.”

Dr. Filth was eager for the celebratory sex, but Eva could not be seduced until she was satisfied with the mission outcome. They needed at least to look in that church.

The canopy of trees grew up to the sides of the building, and no light penetrated from above. Dr. Filth led the way with the light of his cell phone. There were no more zombies. Dr. Filth kicked the front door, but it didn’t budge. He shrugged. “Looks like we can’t get in.”

St. Eva found the door unlocked. A damp, musty wave of air struck them, smelling of death and decay. Dr. Filth and St. Eva found themselves in the lair of Necrolord.

Necrolord was a drug dealer in life, but that was the only money-making end of a scheme that was much darker. Anton LaVey professed 3am to be the best time for a black magick ritual, the hour when the victim was most likely to be asleep and defenseless. Unfortunately for Necrolord, his victims were awake and lurking, and Necrolord was murdered by his rivals as he meditated.

Necrolord was a good Christian boy from a Midwest town that went away to college in the big city. There he became friends with Feminists, Gays, and Blacks, and dabbled in Socialism and Globalism. He discovered Islam and Unitarianism.

Of course, there were drugs involved. Crack. Acid. PCP. He watched a movie that said an alien invasion could be stopped using methamphetamine. He was taught to manufacture the drug by Mr. Wizard the Science Guy. Not long after, Necrolord was selling methamphetamine for Satan.

Alien invasion. These people are so afraid, that’s what they call Jesus coming down with his angels. They are ready to fight it. I say embrace! He comes with a sword in his mouth, you can be sure he’s going to cut you down with it. If you’re righteous, you’re going to stand right up and start fighting right by his side, and you’re gonna be in a perfect body. If you ain’t righteous? Well, I guess the world don’t need you much anyway, do it?

This boy they call Necrolord was a good boy. He was a righteous boy, and if the lord had chose to come down sooner, he would be in a perfect body. Temptation comes for all of us, and Necrolord discovered black magick. It’s spelled with a ‘k’ to honor their demonlord, Aleister Crowley. That’s a man who called hisself ‘the Beast,’ the 666. Necrolord sought out the Abyss, and he looked in it. He let it whisper to him. Evil magick consumed his body, and Necrolord rose from death to seek vengeance. However, he could not leave the abandoned Piscean lodge where he died.

The flesh of his face was rotted away, but his eyes remain open and staring with hate. Necrolord captured deliverers to make them zombies with chemical lobotomies. The magick bound him to the the church, but he could see through the eyes of his zombies. Dr. Filth and St. Eva had cut off his only link to the outside world. Necrolord intended to use them to start his new army.

Unfortunately for the villain, and fortunately for Metro City, Necrolord was incredibly weak physically. He attacked Eva from the shadows, believing the nude superhero to be more vulnerable opponent. She heard his approach without a moment to spare, and her counter-attack kick shattered all of the zombie king’s ribs. Despite his highly decomposed state, Necrolord could still feel pain. Dr. Filth had his Desert Talon in hand. One of his five shots struck and blew apart Necrolord’s skull.

Dr. Filth convinced himself the menace to Metro City was averted. The villain was dead. They did not investigate the basement to find the larger zombie horde locked within. The heroes retired to Dr. Filth’s apartment for some filthy, filthy sex.

The End.

No comments:

Post a Comment