Death Sucks

by Andrew Mallen

  Sin shrunk but remained in the same demonic state. “I will not shed this skin, it is who I am.”

  “As you wish my son, if you must cheat then so be it.”

  “I am not your son!” Sin spat the words along with a shower of putrid saliva.

  “Then face me as a living thing, prove yourself unafraid.”

  “I have nothing to prove anything to you.”

  “You have already proven something,” Gordon said, smiling.

  “And what is that?” Sin growled.

  “That you are afraid.”

  “I am not!”

  “So why hide behind scales and horns? Why do you need claws and teeth if we are to fight with swords?”

  “This is who I am!”

  “Does this creature bleed? Does it live?”

  “I live!” Sin bellowed in frustration, drawing the edge of his sword across his heaving chest, parting the scales and opening the flesh underneath to release a stream of bubbling purple blood. “I bleed!”

  Gordon nodded, satisfied. Sin licked one finger and ran it along the wound, closing it instantly. “I will not let you die easily,” he promised.

  “Good luck my son,” Gordon replied with a kind grin.

  “To the death.” Sin crouched.

  “As you wish.”

  *

  Sin attacked, eons of rage and hate propelling him forward at blinding speed. He hacked savagely, every strike a death blow had Gordon not blocked or dodged each one. Calm, silent and seemingly unafraid, Gordon defended with ease. Sin pushed relentlessly forward, forcing Him up the gentle rise toward the crest of the low hill behind Him.

  Bobby would have held his breath if he could. Sin was a whirlwind, slashing and thrusting from every angle with staggering intensity, forcing Gordon to retreat, denying him any chance of launching an attack of his own. The peak of a hood appeared above the hills horizon, disappearing so quickly Bobby thought for a moment his eyes deceived him. They didn’t.

  Oh shit!

  It wasn’t his eyes, the deceit was far greater. “Maria! There’s someone on the other side of the hill!” he called out.

  Maria spun, eyes wide in realization, searching for the cause of his alarm. “Who? Where?”

  Ninjas.

  Bobby could almost picture Fujibashya and his merry band of assassins crouched waiting to attack. “Ninjas!”

  “Ninjas?” Maria turned back toward Bobby, her brows knit with doubt.

  “Little Japanese dudes with swords who are really good at killing shit!” Bobby explained, running toward her.

  “I know what ninjas are Bobby,” she snapped as she scanned the hillside.

  “They’re on the other side of the hill. He’s pushing Gordon toward them. It’s a trap!”

  “It’s a trap my Lord!” Maria cried out immediately to warn her Lord.

  Gordon heard her but, within that millisecond, while his concentration lapsed, allowed Sin to score his first strike. The beast buried his blade in Gordon’s shoulder with a wet, thwack and a roar of satisfaction. Gordon made no sound. He spun to dislodge the blade then backpedalled further up the hill with his left arm dangling from the thin scrap of flesh holding it in place. Sin followed, drool oozing, snarling in ecstasy.

  “My Lord, it’s an ambush!” Maria cried again and ran, her sword at the ready, toward the dueling gods.

  The ninjas heard the Angel’s warning and, having lost their advantage of surprise, immediately sprung. Thirteen warriors appeared at the top of the hill, each with the blade of their ancestors in their hands. They were not dressed in the robes of their new calling but in the ebony jumpsuits of silent, anonymous death they wore in life.

  “I knew you could not be trusted,” Gordon shook his head in disgust. “I knew you feared me too much to face me.”

  “You bleed! I am whole!” Sin roared.

  “And still you are too much of a coward to see it through,” Gordon replied as the ninjas surrounded him. “I pity you son.”

  “I do not need your pity! I need nothing from you but your death!”

  “And these poor souls are the ones who will do it for you?” Gordon scanned the shrouded faces of the assassins with a kind smile on his own. “These are the ones who will be heralded as the warriors who felled a god?”

  “No! I am the god slayer! All will worship me until the end of time for freeing them from the shackles of love and of conscience!”

  Sin’s assassins were poised to steal his glory. Sin already landed the first blow, and a grave one. Gordon was severely wounded, his lifeblood flowing freely. The old man was dying, diluting the glory of his greatest victory by sharing it was an unnecessary consent. “Fuji!” he called out without turning.

  One of the almost identical figures bowed in response.

  “Leave him to me,” Sin commanded. “Kill the others.”

  Fujibashya bowed again, grunted a few indecipherable instructions to his squad then fell in line as they sprinted single file down the hill toward Bobby and Maria.

  “Master?” Bobby cried out, trying his best to sound appalled.

  “Don’t master me you stupid little shit!” Sin replied. “You are a good liar boy, but not good enough to fool me. I invented it! I smelled deceit on you then as I smell your fear now.”

  Shit! No fucking way, I was being played by this asshole the whole time.

  “Bullshit! I had you! You were all in bro!” Bobby shouted. “That’s why you trained me! That’s why you torched Jones! That’s why you’re here! I fucking twisted you around my little finger you stupid fuck!”

  Sin whirled, teeth bared, black eyes bulging as if the hate inside was too great to contain. “Dog! You dare speak to me, to Sin, like that! You will suffer like no other has before or ever will again!”

  “Blah! Blah! Blah! Drama! Drama! Drama! Don’t you ever get tired of your own bullshit, I mean seriously dude, get over yourself. And, by the way, the whole referring to yourself in the third person, that shit’s played out.”

  Sin’s primal scream carried his scorn across the landscape on a tidal wave of hate.

  Come on Gordo! Take a swing while he’s not looking!

  “Here’s the truth, you ready?” Bobby kept up his verbal assault, even as Sin’s ninja surrounded him. “You’re an asshole, and a whiny little bitch. Did anyone ever tell you that?”

  Sin ground his teeth as he stared at Bobby with hungry, malicious contempt.

  Now Gordo! Now! Come on bro! Hit the fucking guy already!

  “Here’s some more hard truth. You look like the devil from South Park. You suck at being scary, I mean you really suck at it. Another fact about being scary you can’t seem to figure out, scary dudes don’t worry about being scary, they just are you dumbass. Chuck Zito, Brock Lesnar, those dudes don’t go around trying to look like bad asses because they are bad asses. They don’t ask people how to be terrifying, it’s in their fucking DNA you stupid fuck! You try too hard. You’re like a fat kid who tries to impress the cool kids by doing all sorts of stupid shit but only manages to turn himself into a joke. You’re a joke dude, a desperate wanna-be that never will be!”

  Sin stepped toward Bobby, unable to resist his need to silence the rebellious Reaper.

  Come on Gordo! Come on! Do it now! Kill that fucker!

  “Bad ass is a state of mind and you don’t have it! You’re a fraud dude! You’re a big pussy! A fucking bitch-ass bitch! A big, red, ugly, chicken shit, bitch!” Bobby ended his monologue but the diversion, no matter how true or how good it felt, was wasted.

  Gordon didn’t strike.

  Go fucking figure. God’s playing nice in the sandbox while the other kids wedgie, wet-willy, dead-leg and purple-nurple the shit out of him.

  “Leave him,” Sin seethed. “Cut the cunt up slowly so he hears her scream.”

  Fujibashya replied with another bow.

  “Leave them!” Gordon shouted, it was the first time Maria or Bobby had heard him raise his voice. “Leave them and come finish
this!”

  The ninjas tightened their circle, edging closer. Each held their sword in the same way, the handle tight against one shoulder and the blade pointing at the sky.

  “If you kill her then you will have no one to witness your triumph,” Gordon whispered to his opponent. “Who will tell your story?”

  “My word is all that is needed,” Sin growled as he turned his attention back toward Gordon.

  Gordon threw his head back and cackled long and loud. The bizarre reaction halted the ninjas and their Master. “Your word is useless! You said it yourself my son, that you created deceit. How could anyone believe a word you say? Even if they say they believe you it will only be out of fear. Inside they will reject every word knowing you are incapable of truth.”

  “My guards are my witnesses,” Sin replied without conviction.

  “Your slaves? Are they even able to deny you? They have no free will!” Gordon shouted loud enough for the ninjas to hear. “Their story is yours spoken in another voice.”

  Fujibashya flinched when Gordon referred to him as a slave.

  Bingo! A chink in the armor. Nice one Gordo.

  “I didn’t know ninja were slaves,” Bobby whispered to Maria but not for her to hear.

  Fujibashya’s head spun, his narrow eyes burning with resent, “We are not.”

  “Oh, sorry bro,” Bobby raised his hands in submission. “My bad, I thought that’s what your master said.”

  “We serve him in exchange for freedom,” Fujibashya was speaking to Bobby but clearly trying to convince himself.

  “So your master, that guy, the guy who just admitted to being the creator of deceit, promised to set you free if you killed god?” Bobby clarified with a look the covenant deserved.

  “He swore,” Fujibashya replied weakly.

  “Oh, he swore. He also swore to come here alone and to fight with honor and look how that turned out. He lies Master Fujibashya, that’s his thing. If he’s talking, guess what?” Bobby gave the confused ninja a moment to reply before he did it for him. “He’s lying.”

  Fujibashya turned to study the demon. “We wait,” he suddenly ordered his men who immediately sheathed their katanas in unison.

  Sin sensed the change and turned to his thirteen killers. “Fuji, Kill her!”

  Fujibashya simply stared.

  “Insolent fools! You will all pay for this!”

  The ninjas watched him closely but made no sign of even hearing the threat. Sin felt his momentum fading and realized that, although he was winning the fight, he was losing control. “Let’s finish this!” he roared at Gordon.

  “If that is what you want my son,” Gordon, a few shades paler, smiled.

  *

  The comment and the smile triggered Sin’s rage. He exploded toward Gordon with a bloodcurdling cry that echoed with revulsion. He lashed out with incredible speed. His blade sought flesh with the skill of a swordsman and a hunger for revenge. Even one armed and as his blood, along with his strength, pulsed from the gruesome wound that incapacitated the other Gordon parried every blow. The clashing metal shed green sparks making the incredible onslaught even more surreal. Gordon bobbed and weaved, he blocked and dodged but never once tried to land a blow of his own.

  “Fight me!” Sin bellowed in frustration. “I will not tire! I will not relent!”

  Gordon said nothing. Sin pushed him backwards, over the rise and down into the shallow valley on the other side. “Coward! Fight!” Sin roared as he continued his frantic barrage.

  Gordon remained silent, too busy defending himself to reply, even if he had something to say. Sin seemed tireless, he drove Gordon up the next hill, swiping, spinning, slashing and howling as his ancient store of hatred was at last vented onto the one he thought responsible for it. As they crested the hill Sin halted, lowered his sword and studied the old fisherman in silence before tilting his head back and unleashing a deafening cry of malicious laughter.

  Uh oh. Not good.

  “I give up,” Sin said calmly. “Go ahead, kill me.”

  Gordon dropped his sword to hang limp by his side.

  “You can’t,” Sin snorted in disgust and began to laugh like a madman at a freak show once again.

  “Oh shit,” Bobby whispered, knowing Sin was right.

  “Yeah, double shit,” Maria trumped him.

  “So what was your plan Esha, to fight forever? Did you think I would spend the rest of eternity playing this fool’s game?”

  “Are you giving up?” Gordon asked.

  “Never.”

  “But you will not fight?” Gordon’s asked, His voice weak but steady.

  “You are the one who refuses to fight!” Sin cried.

  “I am here, I am ready.”

  “You’re fucking with me,” Sin seethed.

  “Yes.” Gordon smirked.

  Sin erupted, resuming his attack with the same chaotic fervor. Gordon, somehow, slowly, almost casually, rebuffed the monster’s every attempt. Sin raged, frustration pushing him toward madness. He slashed with his claws, snapped with his teeth and charged with his horns but was unable to find satisfaction.

  *

  “Your master is skilled,” Fujibashya whispered from Bobby’s side.

  “Yeah.” Bobby didn’t know what else to say.

  “He must strike soon,” the ninja continued. “He weakens.”

  “What?” Bobby was so fixated on the swordplay he didn’t see much else.

  “His wound, the blood flows strong but it will not for much longer,” Fujibashya explained with grave conviction.

  Bobby immediately sought what the ninja revealed and easily found it. Gordon’s free hand trickled a steady stream of blood from each finger into the grass. “Shit! Fuck! Shit!”

  Maria knew his tone meant trouble. “What? What is it?”

  “He’s hurt bad.” Bobby met her terrified eyes with his own. “Look at his hand, he’s leaking a lot of blood.”

  “Oh no,” she gasped. “Bobby?”

  “He can’t die from that right?” Bobby pleaded. “Tell me He doesn’t have to worry about blood loss.”

  “He’s human now,” Maria told Bobby what he already knew. “They agreed to fight as living things.”

  “Shit!”

  We’re fucked.

  *

  Sin hauled back and swung his sword, driving it down onto Gordon like a lumberjack trying to split a stubborn log. Gordon saw it coming and raised his sword to meet it. The blades collided in a shower of sparks and the old man’s wrist faltered under the incredible force of the blow. His knees buckled. He fell.

  Sin froze, the shock of having finally broken through Gordon’s defense took a moment to register in his hate fevered brain, but only a moment. The devil raised his sword high once again. Gordon struggled to regain his feet and staggered backward. The sword was too heavy in his hand. He was weak, the feeling as new to him as breath to a newborn.

  Sin struck again. Gordon raised his blade awkwardly to block it. Sin expected it, changed the path of his sword and severed the old man’s hand with a wild cry of long awaited victory. Gordon made no sound, flopped onto his ass and stared at the stump as it spouted blood into his lap. His face, colorless except for the splattering of blood, was a mask of bewilderment.

  “Can’t figure it out Esha?” Sin cried with delight as he skipped around the stunned old man. “You’re dying you fool! Humans die, it’s the only thing they’re good at. They’re just bags of blood and guts! Poke the bag and out comes the blood. No blood, no life! You pathetic fool! You’re going to die! You lose! I win! I will be and you will not! I will have it all! I will be everything!”

  *

  “No, no, no, no, no! Bobby? No! This is wrong! This can’t be happening!” Maria cried in disbelief while tugging on the stunned Reaper’s sleeve. “We have to do something! We have to!”

  “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Bobby, as confused as the dying god, pointed out the extremely obvious.

  “Do something
!” Maria screamed to rouse him.

  Fujibashya was watching them like an overzealous hall monitor. Bobby met his bright, panic free eyes. “Master Fujibashya, I need to do something and I’d like to know that you and your boys aren’t going to stop me.”

  Fujibashya said nothing.

  “I have to help Gordo, Esha…the fucking old guy…” Bobby tried to explain.

  “He is good?” Fujibashya asked.

  “He is God,” Maria answered through her tears.

  Fujibashya nodded what Bobby considered a go ahead. Bobby perked his eyebrows at the twelve warriors behind him. “We are one,” Fujibashya replied.

  Vague but I’ll take it as a yes.

  “What are you going to do?” Maria asked.

  “I gotta try and help Gordon, maybe sneak up on him or something,” Bobby hated the sound of his own plan.

  “How will you get the sword?”

  “I have this.” Bobby shook his scythe.

  “That’s useless,” Maria sighed.

  “Not when I’m swinging it babe.”

  “Don’t you ever listen? He can only be killed by the blade of a god!”

  “But he’s alive now, right?”

  “Yes he is but that won’t kill him.”

  Looking at his scythe, the blade he’d literally given his life to create, he stumbled over what just might be the answer to their big, scaly problem. “His scythe!”

  “What?” Maria asked.

  “His scythe. He brought it with him. He made it, he must have. We all made our own, sort of.”

  “Sort of?”

  “Remember? I told you, they used our blood to quench the blades. Every scythe is quenched in the blood of its bearer. It’s what gives it power, what makes it work.”

  Maria remembered and grimaced.

  “He probably had to do the same thing to his. It’s here, on the other side of the hill where they started.” Bobby turned toward the hill he spoke of.

  “No, you’re too slow!” Maria cried and sprinted down into the valley before he could argue.

  Shit, she’s fast.

  “She won’t make it,” Fujibashya said, dousing the feeble spark of hope before it bloomed.

  Bobby followed the ninja’s gaze to where Sin begun to fulfill his lifelong dream of torturing his creator. Swordless and defenseless, Gordon could do nothing to stop it. Sin drove his sword into the ground, plucked the old fisherman from the grass with one hand and roughly stripped him of his blood-soaked flannel shirt with the other. “Behold Esha, God of gods!” the demon roared. “You will not die well brother.”