Death Sucks

by Andrew Mallen

  She looked at the man while waiting to hear his request but something unusual happened while she did. His eyes flashed as black as burnt oil and when they returned all the kindness in them was gone.

  “Take that little shooter, stick it in that cock hole in your face and do the world a favor why don’t ya?” he said in a weird accent accompanied by a wicked grin.

  “What?” Jackie couldn’t believe what she’d heard.

  “You heard me blackie,” the EMT snapped.

  “What the fuck did you just say to me?” her grip tightened on the pistol once again but this time she raised it with the barrel pointing the other way.

  The EMT laughed, “Good girl, good girl. Come on love, give us a look at what you got. Angry are ya? Pissed off at the world I reckon. Boo hoo I’m sad. Boo hoo I’m black. Boo hoo I don’t have a cock. Boo hoo my druggie slut of a daughter just offed herself. Only the boy left but I reckon he’s a goner too, eh?”

  “Who…what…who the fuck do you think you’re talking to motherfucker?” Jackie’s pointer finger curled around the trigger.

  “Stop! Stop!” Bobby screamed. “Let him go Indi, let him go!”

  Indiwongga was inside Lenny somehow, or Lenny was inside him. In Bobby’s eyes the big Aboriginal engulfed Lenny but he did not eclipse him. Lenny was there, a faded, fuzzy rendition of himself surrounded by the big Reaper’s deeper, darker form.

  “What should I have him do mate? Shoot her? The boy? Your boy? Where is he anyway?” the possessed EMT wanted answers.

  Bobby shrugged.

  “Roger?” Lenny’s hijacked self called out.

  Roger heard him and the cop waved him in from where he stood waiting in the short hallway beside the kitchen.

  “No!” Bobby roared as Roger brushed past him and into the small kitchen.

  Roger heard the warning and froze.

  “Possessed!” Bobby screamed in his ear a moment before the cold curve of Ortero’s blade pressed against his throat.

  “Cut that shit out right quick,” Lenny hissed Indiwongga’s order.

  “What?” Roger asked, the question was for Lenny and Bobby.

  “Hey fatty, look at Ms. Darkie here, she has her knickers all in a twist mate,” Lenny snickered.

  “What’s going on Lenny?” Roger knew at once he wasn’t talking to the man he was set to marry in less than twenty-four hours.

  “Get out of my home!” Jackie cried in utter confusion.

  “It’s all right, everything’s okay.” Roger wasn’t trained for this kind of crazy but he’d seen enough horror flicks to know a demonic possession when he saw one. “Lenny? You in there Lenny?”

  Lenny froze. Indiwongga growled. Bobby saw hope.

  Fight him Lenny! Fight him!

  *

  “Do you know me and chubby there like to get nasty?” Indiwongga was still in charge and having a field day with Lenny’s memories. “Oh yeah, we plow each other’s field every chance we get.”

  “I don’t care where you stick your dick just get the fuck out!” Jackie had just about all she could take and squeezed the trigger until there was no play left in it.

  “Tell me about the Reaper,” Lenny said, turning to Roger.

  “What?” Roger asked, caught completely off guard.

  “The guy in the robe, yeah? Plain looking fella, your age, carries a big fucking stick?”

  “Bobby? You know about Bobby?” Roger let the cat, screaming and thirsty for blood, out of the bag. “He’s…he’s like my guardian Angel, kinda but not really. It’s hard to explain but he’s a good guy.”

  Really Roger? Fuck me.

  “Well, well Bobby my boy, seems like you’ve been fucking around quite a bit I reckon? Shame on you yank, shame on you,” Indiwongga spoke directly to Bobby, leaving Lenny as frozen as if someone pressed his pause button.

  “Dude you got this shit all twisted. Stop playing games and just listen. These people have nothing to do with any of this! Let’s get out of here and go somewhere quiet where I can explain everything,”

  “Not a chance mate, explanation time is over,” Indiwongga smiled an evil smile. “What we’re doing now is seeing just how bad you screwed yourself.”

  “What happened to you bro?” Bobby asked, disgusted and desperate. “You were like this proud, righteous warrior when we were in that place together. You stood up to Jones, you were so fucking cool and so real, like really real dude. Even there, even dead, you were like this bad ass who did what he wanted, who did what he believed was the right thing. Now…now you’re like a puppet or a well-heeled dog or something. What happened to the other guy, the rebel, the warrior?”

  Indiwongga smiled again, his thick lips spread over the wide expanse of his big teeth. “Reckon he’s dead mate, just like you are. Good speech though.”

  Fuck! Shit! Fuck!

  “Lenny? Lenny, you okay Lenny?” Roger asked his partner who stood like one of Madame Tuso’s creations, breathless and motionless. “Bobby? Bobby what’s going on?”

  “Who you talking to? What the Hell’s up with you two?” Jackie was beginning to realize there was a lot more going on in her kitchen than she could see.

  “It’s okay Ms. Simmons, Lenny just, he’s…” Roger didn’t even know where to begin.

  “Listen I don’t care what’s wrong with him just get him the fuck out of my place!” she screamed with the gun still pointed at Lenny.

  The young cop eased slowly into the overcrowded kitchen. His own gun was up and ready.

  “Easy,” Roger waved him to lower it.

  “Yeah, easy,” Jackie agreed.

  “Fuck that, waste the bitch!” Lenny cheered.

  “What?” the cop got nervous and his stance went rigid.

  “He’s tripping,” Roger cried as he read the cops confusion and the name on his tag. “Sanchez, his meds must’ve got screwed up and he’s having an episode. It’s medical, I can talk him down, I’ve done it before.”

  “Tripping? Like LSD tripping?”

  “Tripping, like bugging out and being a racist, belligerent asshole.” Jackie added her justified two cents.

  “This normal?” Sanchez asked.

  “Normal, no,” Roger replied. “Fixable, yes”

  “We need to get the civilian out of here,” Sanchez shouted over his shoulder, wanting Jackie out of harm’s way if shit hit the fan.

  “Fuck that!” Lenny screamed. “Gimme that shooter and I’ll do the bitch for ya mate!”

  Lenny reached for Sanchez’s gun. Sanchez did what he was trained to do. As Lenny took hold of the barrel Sanchez twisted it from his grip. Grabbing Lenny’s wrist he pulled the EMT to one side, drove a knee into his gut then whacked him hard on the back of his head with the butt of his pistol. Lenny was out before he hit the daisy patterned floor.

  “Whoa dude! Easy, easy,” Roger raised both hands as Sanchez spun to make sure he wasn’t under attack.

  “Sanchez?” his partner called out as he approached the doorway in response to the commotion.

  “All good Bennett,” Sanchez replied. “We got a bit of a situation here.”

  Understatement of the century.

  “Friendly coming in,” Bennet was obviously ex-military.

  “Good reflexes this one, eh?” Indiwongga appeared and applauded Sanchez’s skill for having so easily dispatched Lenny.

  Bobby didn’t answer, his mind reeling too fast to think.

  “So you’ve been up here watching these two queers get their rocks off, that’s what you’re into, eh? Never had you pegged as a cock man Grant. You Ort?”

  Ortero didn’t answer, the blade at Bobby’s throat remained as unmoving as the man who wielded it.

  “There’s more to it I reckon. No way you just up and decided to risk it all just to perv out as a peeping Tom,” Indiwongga babbled on, working through his theories. “Come on Grant, let’s do this the easy way. They’re all going to die here tonight, how messy it gets is up to you mate. A bullet to the head, that’s option on
e, the easy way. You tell me your dirty little secrets, eh, and all these nice folks get one neat hole in the head.”

  This is bad, really, really fucking bad! Option two is going to suck.

  “Option two, and this one is our fave, right Ort? Option two, you keep up the stupid act and we’ll drop our hoods and peel all of them like oranges. They’ll scream Grant, they’ll scream until their throats burst, and they’ll know it’s all because of you. And every one of them will be waiting for you when we get back.”

  Bobby closed his eyes. He knew Indiwongga meant every word of his threat. He also knew that when he gave the Hunter what he wanted that the cops, the Simmons’s, Roger and Lenny would all die horrible deaths.

  “So what do you want to know?” he moaned.

  “Right, good boy. Simple really mate, why are you here and what the fuck have you been up to?” Indiwongga posed the very same questions Bobby had been asking himself since waking up in Hell.

  “I fell in love with an Angel and I found out that the Master was cheating so I decided to save the world.” Bobby replied and smiled, it was crazy but it was the truth.

  “You shitting me mate?”

  “Nope, no shit. No sugarcoating. No artificial colors or preservatives,” Bobby replied cheerfully, it felt good to finally say it.

  “A chick or a bloke?” Indiwongga asked.

  “A chick…a girl.”

  “And where is this lovely?”

  “Can Ort here give me a little space?” Bobby showed a submissive palm and held the scythe in his other one out to Ortero. “I ain’t going nowhere.”

  “Ok mate, no worries,” Indiwongga agreed.

  Ortero slid his blade from under Bobby’s chin and plucked the scythe from his hand. He stayed behind Bobby, no doubt ready to strike if provoked.

  “Long or short version?” Bobby asked.

  “Long mate, the devil’s in the details,” Indiwongga replied hungrily, stepping over Lenny and into Jackie. The woman’s eyes flashed black then turned to study Bobby coolly. “No funny business mate,” his Australian drawl sounded bizarre coming from the Bronx native.

  “None,” Bobby agreed.

  “Just in case.” Jackie’s hand raised the .22 and popped two quick shots into the unconscious EMT, one in each buttock.

  “What the fuck!” Roger shrieked and lunged at the woman, unaware she was fighting the same fight from inside.

  Jackie, with the reflexes of the warrior that controlled her, reacted with speed and ruthless skill. She spun, aimed and shot twice. Each bullet found its mark. Roger hadn’t even taken a third step when his thighs exploded in red, hot misery.

  “Indi, what are you doing? This isn’t the deal!” Bobby roared as Roger crashed to the floor at Jackie’s feet.

  Sanchez had the woman in his sights. The big EMT was squirming and moaning on the floor between them. Something crazy was going on. The woman was talking to herself in an Australian accent, just like the other EMT right before shit got out of hand. “Drop the weapon!” he demanded, hoping he didn’t sound as terrified as he felt.

  Bennet crashed face first into Sanchez from behind, his head pulsing blood from a deep gash in the back of the ex-Marine’s head courtesy of Ortero who had slipped momentarily into the living world to deliver the blow.

  “All alone now copper,” Jackie snapped. “Now be a good boy and drop that shooter before someone else gets hurt.”

  “Who’s there? Who else is here?” Sanchez was beginning to crack.

  “Just my mate. Show him Ort, show this nice fella that pretty smile of yours.”

  Ortero stepped into the threshold, pulling his hood down as he did. He looked at Sanchez and smiled. Sanchez pissed himself.

  “Oh no Ort, look what you done mate. He’s pissed himself,” Jackie cried hysterically.

  Sanchez stood waving his gun from the woman to the almost toothless creep who appeared out of nowhere. Ortero deftly dropped his scythe on the officer’s hands, liberating the gun from his grip along with the fingers that held it. Sanchez howled. Ortero struck again, cracking the screaming officer in the head with the butt of his scythe, silencing him immediately, and adding to the growing pile of men on the kitchen floor. The gaucho stood over them, his dense mustache curling above a wicked grin as he fantasized about what he could do before death saved them.

  *

  Bobby hated them so deeply. A need took hold of him, a need to punish them. With his hood down, Ortero was vulnerable but Bobby would be too if he struck. The butcher block on the counter beside him was fully stocked. Eight handles of various sizes sprouted from its varnished surface. He’d have to be quick. Drop his hood, grab a knife, kill Ortero and get out of the kitchen before Indiwongga started shooting.

  Sack up! Nothing to lose buddy! Go Bobby! Go!

  He went.

  Swiping back his hood, he grabbed a knife even before the heavy fabric settled on his shoulders. Two steps put him in striking distance. Ortero, alerted by some unknown internal alarm, began to turn but it only made Bobby’s job easier. Bobby drove the 8 inch chef knife into his throat then wrenched it out roughly, widening the wound. He pushed passed the awestruck Reaper and through the doorway.

  “Ort!” Indiwongga screamed.

  “You’re next kangaroo fucker!” Bobby yelled, exhilarated by the success of his plan’s first step. After stopping briefly to pick up Bennet’s Gloch he darted toward the front door. Movement caught his eye and he turned toward it. Jordan was hunkered behind the couch, hiding his face in his hands, his fate left to the imaginary force field evoked by every scared child.

  Shit kid, he’ll see you. No matter how tight you close your eyes he’ll still see you.

  Bobby couldn’t stop. He had to lure Indiwongga out of the apartment and away from the living, away from Roger. In the hallway where Wendy’s small corpse still lay, he made it halfway to the stairway before Indiwongga started shooting.

  Hood asshole!

  Bobby tossed the Gloch into the stairwell and reached for his hood. A bullet grazed his shoulder as he struggled to pull the heavy covering over his head. Three more whizzed through him a moment after he had it in place.

  “You’re a deadman Yank! A deadman!” Indiwongga’s voice filled the hallway, drowning out the gunshot’s echo as Bobby spun into the stairwell.

  “What’s the matter, lose your boyfriend? Toothless fuck must’ve been a natural cocksucker!” Bobby cried once safely tucked behind the wall.

  “You have no idea how fucked you are you wanker!” Indiwongga called, firing three more shots.

  “Jealous I reckon.” Bobby did the world’s worst Aussie accent. “No cock on the barbie for you tonight mate!”

  “Come on Yank, come back here! Me and you can finish this, man to man, eh?” Indiwongga emptied the gun and tossed it aside. “No tricks mate.”

  “Yeah right, because you’ve been so trustworthy, asshole.”

  Indiwongga stepped from inside Jackie. Frozen in confusion, her eyes frantically scanned the hallway for answers. Indiwongga dropped his hood and Jackie screamed, “Oh Jesus!”

  “Jesus ain’t gonna help you love,” Indiwongga sneered, wrapped one big hand around her throat, hoisted her off her feet and began to squeeze. Bobby peered around the door jamb as Indiwongga tossed her lifeless body beside her daughters.

  “Mommy?” Jordan howled from the apartment doorway.

  “Perfect timing little man.” Indiwongga turned, grabbed the terror stricken child and ended his life in the same way he had his mothers.

  “You sick fuck!” Bobby roared.

  Jackie rose from her corpse as her son fell. She screamed so loud Bobby thought his ears would pop. Indiwongga laughed. Jordan sat up, winced and covered his ears. “Mommy, cut it!” he cried.

  “Jordan!” Jackie dove to scoop the boy into her arms.

  They hugged fiercely, oblivious to everything but their love.

  “Enough of this shit, come on,” Indiwongga interrupted cruelly.

&nb
sp; Jackie spun with Jordan nestled against her chest. “Who the fuck are you?” she growled.

  “Come on now love, we were so close. Did you forget me already?” Indiwongga teased.

  “You…you were inside me…in my head.” Her eyes narrowed with hate and understanding.

  “A prize for this one I reckon.” Indiwongga clapped and stepped aside to reveal the bodies behind him. “There it is hon, you’ve won a massive dose of reality.”

  “No.” Jackie’s eyes widened, her jaw dropped and her spirit buckled.

  “Oh yeah bitch, you’re dead and so is that brat of yours.”

  “No, please!” she screamed. “Not my baby, not my baby boy!”

  “No worries love, now he’ll always be your little man. Good stuff, eh?”

  “Oh Jesus! Oh dear Jesus!” Jackie cried, shaking violently.

  “Jesus won’t help you love.”

  “Ask for forgiveness!” Bobby shouted, stepping into the hallway.

  “Oh yeah, do that.” Indiwongga glanced at Bobby briefly before returning to his prey. “Go on, you too little man, ask for forgiveness. Beg for mercy. Go on, do it.”

  “Please Jesus forgive us our sins!” Jackie cried in sorrowful desperation.

  Indiwongga spun, slowly searching the hallway, his hands thrown wide in dramatic pantomime. “You’re all mine I reckon,” he said and shrugged, pulled up his hood and sliced open a portal of swirling darkness drawing a cry from Jackie that would have put an entire pod of Humpback whales to shame.

  “Don’t worry love, it’s just for….well, forever,” Indiwongga said and laughed.

  Jackie sobbed while peppering the crown of her son’s head with tender kisses.

  *

  “Running away like the coward you really are, huh boy?” Bobby shouted, desperate to stop him.

  “Run, from you mate, are you mad?” Indiwongga barked.

  “Looks like it to me. Here I am, waiting patiently while you play Jones with women and little kids. Looks to me like you’re stalling dude, trying to work up the balls to fight a man, someone close to your own size you coward.”

  Indiwongga turned from the dead. “You are mad. You’re nothing…nothing! I’ll have you begging for your mum before I’m done with you.”