Kiss Like a Fist_A Paranormal Harem Pulp Novel

by Jake Richter

  “It’s too late!” the raven-haired woman yelled. “We know who you are! Once a name, always a threat!”

  “What does that even mean?” Alex yelled.

  The raven-haired woman smiled darkly. “You’ll find out soon enough, Alex. The appointed hour for your death has arrived!”

  She threw a punch that connected with Alex’s chin, sending him flying through the air. He lost his grip on the umbrella and crashed into the wall of the subway car, which was grinding to a stop.

  Woozy, disoriented, Alex elbowed himself up as the hag dropped on top of him. The woman grabbed his head and commenced slamming it into the floor.

  Alex dropped low and rolled sideways toward the open subway door. The woman scuttled after Alex then reached for him. Alex cunt-punted the bitch who fell back through the doors and out onto the train platform as the doors closed and—

  The woman’s hands shot through them.

  Somehow, she’d managed to spear her hands between the door dividers.

  She had a handful of Alex’s hair and was holding on for dear life.

  Alex couldn’t believe it, but the raven-haired psycho wasn’t giving up.

  The subway train jolted forward.

  Alex cried out, but there was nobody around to hear him.

  Alex struggled to break the woman’s grip but she wouldn’t let go. He looked up and screamed because the tunnel was fast approaching.

  6

  Alex reacted.

  The woman didn’t.

  He pulled back as the woman was plastered against the tunnel, shearing her hands off at the wrists. Alex sat on the floor in silence for several seconds. He was all alone as the train continued to rumble forward, staring dumbstruck at the hands which were still clutching onto the sides of his head.

  He batted the hands away and fumbled back into a train seat and waited for the next stop. His heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest, but he was alive.

  As soon as the train reached the next stop, Alex hopped off and without giving it a thought raced toward the exit. It was much more crowded at this stop but that didn’t slow him down one bit. He darted toward a metal staircase descended it, passing a cop who was coming up the other way. That caught Alex’s attention. He hesitated for an instant.

  Alex knew the woman’s black blood had probably spritzed him, but he prayed he’d be able to glide past the cop.

  He dredged up a smile for the cop. “Late for work!”

  “Take your time, Alex!” the cop shouted.

  Alex stopped at the bottom of the staircase. His nostrils curled up. He smelled the scent of brimstone.

  Pivoting, he caught sight of the cop who was grinning, his mouth distending to reveal a row of black teeth.

  “We’re everywhere, motherfucker.”

  Alex turned and ran, pinballing through a crush of commuters as a feminine voice shouted, “RUN, ALEXANDER! RUN!”

  Alex knew that voice.

  It was Ash’s.

  Alex didn’t stop. He continued barreling down the sidewalk into the heart of the city. His senses were on overdrive. Every shadow looked ominous, every face like a potential adversary. Slashing across a main thoroughfare, he fought to remain as inconspicuous as possible as he headed toward the only place where he thought he might be able to figure out what was going on. The Rhea.

  Ten minutes later, Alex reached for his phone. He punched Spence’s speed-dial picture. It was the one where Spence had stuffed four donuts in his face. Alex shouted at the phone: “Spence pick up, pick up! No voicemail, please!”

  But Spence’s voicemail answered. Instead of hello there were sounds of women screaming in ecstasy then silence, and finally Spence’s recorded voice. “After all that if you still want to leave a message, do it, cause I’m busying DOING IT!”

  “Meet me at The Rhea. Now. I think I’m in deep shit and need some help, and oh seriously, you need a new message. It’s never been funny. Sorry, but yeah, call me!”

  Alex powered down the phone and slid to a stop.

  The Rhea was just up ahead at the end of the street.

  The place looked deserted.

  Alex smiled, relieved, and struck off toward it.

  He grabbed the front door and tugged on it. The door groaned loudly, then pulled open as Alex slipped inside.

  The joint was definitely not jumping.

  In fact, the place was dead, which was just fine with Alex.

  A few overhead lights were on, however, illuminating portions of the dance floor which was still littered with pieces of debris from the night before, the air still tanged with the odor of booze and smoke. Fincher would be pissed since the place wasn’t clean, but Alex wasn’t overly concerned. There was still another six hours before the club opened. Plenty of time for the afternoon crew to tighten things up.

  But as he took a step he heard something.

  A sound coming from above.

  The ceiling boards were creaking.

  As if somebody was slowly moving across them. Alex thought, maybe it’s the custodians. They are early though.

  “Hey! It’s Alex!” he called out. “Just got here!”

  No response.

  Then there was a sound.

  Something was rolling.

  Alex closed his eyes and listened.

  Yep, it was definitely something moving at a deliberate, angry pace.

  Alex squinted and moved to the staircase and saw a figure. It took him a second to process, but then he saw it.

  The raven-haired woman from the train. She was alive! But without her hands.

  Alex screamed and the raven-haired woman lurched up out of the shadows at the top of the stairs, still missing her hands. She clutched the banister with her gory stumps and torqued herself down.

  “I want two things,” the woman said. Alex stared dumbstruck at the nubs of sugar-white bone that peaked out of the bloody holes where her hands had once been. “The sickle and my hands.”

  “I don’t know what the sickle is and I don’t have your hands,” Alex said, crabbing back.

  “THEN I’LL TAKE YOURS!”

  She sprang at Alex as—

  BAM! BAM!

  A thunderous explosion rocked the room.

  Like a million hammers striking a wall of granite.

  The raven-haired woman’s torso exploded, her remains whipsawed back against the staircase.

  Alex’s ears rang and there were stars in his eyes.

  Something moved peripherally.

  Alex dropped to his haunches and spotted a figure striding out of the shadows.

  It was Ash!

  She was carrying a weapon of some kind, a violin-sized gun with a stock and barrel that were translucent. Alex could see what looked like orange shells inside the gun, the barrel glowing white, expanding and contracting like a heart. Alex had never seen anything like it, which was saying a lot considering all the shit he’d seen in the past several hours!

  “What's that?” Alex gawked at the futuristic blaster.

  Ash blew smoke from the gun’s barrel. “My Bitch Killer.” She pointed to what was left of the raven-haired woman. “And that bitch is no more. So let’s talk about what we need to do next.”

  “Wha-what the fuck is g-going on?!” Alex stammered.

  “What’s going on, Alex, is they want the sickle and its power, power over life and death, and they think you have it.”

  “I don’t have anything, and I don’t know what they’re talking about!”

  “I know you don’t, but they aren’t buying it.”

  “What is the sickle, anyway?”

  “It’s not just any sickle. This a sickle that belonged to the Grand Reaper. And when Grimwood, the lord of souls and supposed right-hand man of our beloved Grand Reaper, tried to take over the Underworld, it was your grandfather who hid the sickle so Grimwood would never find it.”

  Alex massaged his face, eying the corpse of the raven-haired woman. “My grandfather?”

  She nodded
. “He five-fingered the sickle.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe what you want, but it’s true.”

  “I haven’t seen him in months,” Alex said. “He’s alive?”

  Ash pursed her lips. “Well, he’s not technically alive. But your grandfather and I needed to act fast before Grimwood destroyed everything we held dear, so your grandfather hid the sickle.”

  “Can you actually hear the words coming out of your mouth?” Alex asked.

  “Look, sweetie, you just saw me blow away a flesh spirit, a human transformed into a living breathing evil bitch and you’re still doubting me?”

  Alex swallowed hard. “What do you want?”

  “I need your help.”

  “To do what?” Alex asked.

  “Track down your grandfather before it happens.”

  “What happens?”

  Ash considered this for a moment.

  “Well, think of our little predicament here as a race against time. Our side wants to find the sickle so we can use it the way it was intended before the other side gets it and uses it as a weapon. If, however, no one gets the sickle in six days, then all of Creation will be undone.”

  “That doesn’t sound good at all.”

  Ash nodded. “It’s basically the worst fucking news ever. Times a million. Then take that worst fucking news and set it on fire and then you’ll begin to understand just how bad this situation is.”

  Alex paled.

  “This is crazy. You’re saying my grandfather, who—”

  “Hid the sickle.”

  “That controls life and death.”

  Ash nodded. “To keep it from Grimwood, ‘cause he wants to be in control of the Underworld.”

  “The Underworld. You mean hell. My grandfather’s in hell?”

  “I’d love to keep chatting, but frankly I don’t have time for this. Either you’re with me or you’re not.”

  Ash tilted her gun at Alex.

  “What are you doing? I hadn’t made my decision yet!” Alex said.

  Ash aimed the gun at Alex as she squeezed the trigger.

  7

  The blast from Ash’s gun flew directly over Alex’s head, causing him to spin and look back to see his boss, Mr. Fincher. The round from Ash’s gun had blasted a hole in his chest.

  “Holy shit! You just shot my boss!” Alex shouted.

  “He’s not your boss anymore,” Ash replied.

  A strange light shone in Fincher’s eyes and the hole in his chest pulsed, the puckered flesh appearing to heal itself. Fincher whipped out a knife the size of a lawnmower blade and grinned.

  “What happened to you, Mister Fincher?” Alex asked, holding up his hands.

  “Some young ladies came to visit me early this morning,” Fincher replied, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “They said you did some very naughty things.”

  “No, sir. It’s not true.”

  “They don’t care about the truth. They only care about the goddamn magical sickle. Once you comply they will show you mercy.”

  Alex looked at his boss. “I don’t believe you, sir.”

  Fincher’s smile wilted and for a moment there was a glimpse of Fincher before he was turned into an evil flesh spirit. “You’re right,” he said, his eyes fluttering and pleading. “They won’t show you mercy. They didn’t show me any, but remember when you asked me about the only way it would get better?”

  Alex nodded. “I remember what you said, sir.”

  Fincher, fighting the evil that overtook him, spoke quietly. “What did I say, Alex?”

  Alex tapped his forehead. “You said the only way it would get better is if someone came in and put some lead between your eyes.”

  Fincher nodded. “Show me mercy, Alex.”

  Fincher’s eyes turned again, the strange light in them glowing. Fincher raised the knife and moved forward, hell-bent on slicing up Alex. Anything human inside of Fincher was gone but Alex was still in shock, and he stood rooted in place as Fincher advanced. “Time to cross your boss over!” Ash shouted. The barrel of her gun came up and roared once more, the weapon launching a round that drilled a half-dollar-sized hole in the middle of Fincher’s head.

  Fincher stood there for a second, teetering as if his brain hadn’t yet communicated the fact that he was dead to the rest of his body.

  Ash stepped forward and blew on him and he collapsed like a bag of trash.

  “You just murdered, Mister Fincher,” Alex muttered.

  Ash shrugged. “He was kinda already dead. And he asked for mercy. So there’s that.”

  Alex was blown away and stared at the blood-painted walls, the two corpses lying on the ground. There was going to be a lot of explaining to do, particularly to the police. His instinct was to run, escape, and when something on the ground glinted, Alex smiled briefly. Fincher’s keys were visible, almost in reach but before he could snag them, a keening whine echoed off the walls.

  Ash reacted to the sound, adopting a defensive crouch. She brought her gun around.

  A concussive blast rocked the building as something dropped through the roof, showering Alex and Ash in dust and debris.

  A form slammed to the ground. Alex squinted, peering through the silty half-light to see a misshapen creature lying on the floor before him. It seemed to be a monster resembling the bastard spawn of some nautical beast and a well-muscled man who stood several inches shy of six feet tall. The thing’s upper body was jacked and covered in body armor that resembled shiny black scales. The creature was bald with ears swept back like a fox’s. Its face was elongated but eerily human with bright turquoise eyes, the mouth twitching in a smile that resembled a grimace.

  “What is that?” Alex shouted.

  “It ain’t the tooth fairy,” Ash replied.

  The figure rose up to its full height and flung a smile in Ash’s direction.

  “Greetings, Ashley,” the creature said in deep-throated, flawless English. “What say you?”

  Ash gestured at the debris littering the ground. “Smooth entry as always, Dante. Can you ever make an appearance without damaging the friggin’ building?”

  “They can bill me,” Dante replied with a grin.

  “Sure, but will you pay?”

  “I could ask the same of you and your friend.”

  “We don’t owe you anything, Dante.”

  “Oh, Ashley my dear, you do owe us. You owe me and the man big time.”

  “The man can kiss my ass.”

  Dante smirked. “Look, I get it. When Grimwood made his move, it wasn’t a popular decision. Everyone liked the Grand Reaper but it was time for a change.”

  Alex grabbed the knife that once was in Fincher’s possession, and pointed in Dante’s direction. “You know this guy?”

  She nodded. “We go way back.”

  “Little shy of sixty years,” Dante said with a sly smile. “But who’s counting? And we certainly know you, Alex. Your grandfather started quite a shit-storm when he stole the sickle.”

  Ash tipped her head. “Ah, so you know.”

  “Well, we suspected. We called for all the Asphyxes to return immediately after the revolution began and the sickle went missing, and you, my dear, were one of the ones that didn’t report back. There were others, but given your sector, we figured it was you. Now, all that’s left is you telling us where the sickle is.”

  Ash nodded, resigned. “Okay. You win. The sickle is very close.”

  Dante grinned. “How close?”

  “If you put your head up your ass, you’ll see it!”

  Dante’s face darkened, his gaze smoking into Ash’s. “Grimwood wants what’s his.”

  “Can’t always get what you want, Dante,” Ash replied.

  Dante turned to Alex. “What about you, barkeep?”

  Alex held his hands up. “I’m not involved in any of this.”

  Dante flashed a smile. “I beg to differ. You’re up to your neck in it now, but there’s a way out. All you
have to do is help us, show us where the sickle is, and we’ll wipe the slate clean. We’ll clean all of this up and provide you with a thousand delights far beyond anything you might experience in your earthly life. A thousand orgasms for each breath you take. All we ask is loyalty and the location of what your grandfather stole from us.”

  “I can’t help you, because I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alex said, backing up.

  Dante smacked his hands together, flinging a glance at Ash. “What a shame. You know how Grimwood enjoys the taste of human candy. Especially after he sucks the truth out of them!”

  Ash grinned. “Yeah, well, you can tell Grimwood that I’m fresh out of lollipops, but I’ve got something he can suck on!”

  Before Dante could react, Ash fired a shot from her gun that blew him backward with the force of a moving car. An array of colors and light zipped through Dante’s body.

  Ash flung a look at Alex. “Either you’re with me, or you can take your chances with the cops.”

  “I’m with you,” Alex replied.

  “Great. Now all we need is a ride. You got anything?”

  Alex thought for a moment. Then he dove and grabbed the keys to Fincher’s Challenger. “Got one now!”

  Ash latched onto his wrist and pulled him back out the front door of the bar.

  As they scampered out into the open Alex yelled at Ash, “I never said I was helping you either!”

  “Actions speak louder than words. Why else would you be running away with me?”

  “I’m pretty sure most men would run marathons with you,” Alex said. “Doesn’t mean I’m going into the sickle searching business.”

  “Sickle searching and retrieving. We can search all we want, but if we don’t find it and get it back to the Underworld, there’s gonna be hell to pay. Literally.”

  Alex gulped, and Ash laid a hand on his wrist.

  “Look, if you want to go back to whatever life you had before you met me, then stick close to me, okay? Dante and his boss Grimwood, they don’t ask. They take. And they take hard.”

  They sprinted across the street and took up a position in an alley. Looking back, Alex could see Dante staggering out of the bar although he wasn’t following them.