by Michael Todd
Baal clapped appreciatively. “Just a warning. Everything is fun and games until Lucifer shoves your own dick up your ass and uses it as an enema.”
Moloch turned slowly and looked at Baal. “I don’t think you know what that means.”
Baal crossed his arms. “It’s short for unmitigated pain.”
Moloch nodded as he opened another gate. “Oh, new definition. That will work.”
The demons all stepped through and out another portal into a small country town in France. The silence was broken by the blare of sirens blasting all around them. Moloch walked into the town. Barely anyone was on the streets. There was only a small group of humans behind a makeshift barricade, and the humans were armed to the teeth. They were shooting at the demons as the fiends tried to take the town.
“Well, look at that. They are fighting back.” Baal chuckled.
Moloch was shocked. “Huh. Precious. And it looks as if they have found a way to put their people into hiding. This is just adorable.”
Baal thought about that for a moment. “You know, it wasn’t that long ago that we would attack a place and be met by little more than screaming and running.”
Moloch waved his hands. “I wouldn’t read into it too much. Probably just a bad choice on my part. We probably stumbled into a town willing to fight, but they are few and far between.”
He opened another portal and stepped through, letting the demons follow along behind, ignoring the sound of gunfire.
He paused for a moment in hell and tapped his finger against his lip. Moloch waved his hand and opened a portal to the other side of Australia, not too far from where they’d attacked just a few days before. There too were sirens blasting and armed militants in the street.
Moloch looked at the demons huddled behind him. They were hesitating. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go on get out there and get it done. I don’t have time for your fear.”
Baal watched as the first few demons rushed out, screaming. They were met with sharp blasts from a shotgun, and the first wave was blown to bits. Baal gaped. “Oh, man, that was Larry! He was one of my servants.”
Moloch patted him on the back. “It’s okay, buddy. We will have plenty to choose from when we get back. What did he do for you?”
Baal pouted. “My chef. He was my chef.”
“That’s rough.”
Moloch walked along the streets of the town and came to a stop at one of the restaurants. He lifted the roof off the building and looked down into the kitchen, where several men in white jackets stood. “Which of you is the chef?”
Most of the others shied away, but one short, round man lifted his shaking arm. Moloch nodded and reached down, lifting the man out by his shirt collar. He handed the fat cook to Baal. “There, now you have a new chef.”
Baal grinned widely, a horrific look for him. He walked back toward the gate cradling the chef like a newborn. “I’m going to go see what he can do with puppies.”
The chef screamed as he disappeared with Baal into hell.
General Brushwood sat at his desk replying to an epic list of emails he had been putting off for weeks. Things had just been too hectic in his life to focus on them. There were incursions to deal with, and then the trips to hell. Emails just didn’t rate when stacked against those priorities. He knew, though, that his political connections were as important to the cause as anything else. He did his best to keep the idiots in suits from doing anything that would get them all killed.
“General, you have a call on line one,” his secretary informed him over the intercom.
The general sighed. “All right. I’ll take it.”
He finished up an email before picking up the receiver. “This is Brushwood, how can I help you?”
“General, this is Lieutenant Rafter from Second Command. We are watching the screens and monitoring any possible incursions.”
The general straightened in his chair. “Yes, and?”
The man’s voice was shaking. “There have been several short hit-and-run attacks. One in Australia, one in the Outer Banks of North Carolina, and one in Alabama. That seems to be what we have so far. However, they aren’t really killing as many as normal. Several places have implemented new measures to protect the towns. It seems to be working. To be honest, the demons seem to be just destroying stuff and running away.”
The general groaned, rubbing his face. “It’s vandalism now?”
“Well, there was one instance of kidnapping.”
The general was starting to wish he had stuck with email. “Okay. Well, that’s new.”
“Two very large demons stomped through the town in Australia, pulled the roof off of a restaurant, and took the chef back to hell. They didn’t kill him or anything.”
The general had stopped trying to figure out the ridiculous antics of the beasts. They did what they wanted to do with little rhyme or reason. “I want you to watch this. If there is another incursion of any kind, we’ll send a team. Also, I want you to figure out who the two large demons are. They don’t usually make an appearance at these kinds of events. It’s usually hit-and-run with small demons.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll call you back with updates.”
The general hung up the phone and began pacing the floor. It was never a good thing when the demons went wild, attacking towns and cities, especially in the United States. The shock value, on the other hand, was starting to get old. They were no longer surprised when demons attacked. The public was no longer shocked and distraught by the deaths. Instead of shock, there was a still anger, one that the general was getting used to. They couldn’t win every battle, and the demons had come up with a way to cause damage without leaving enough time for the mercs to get there.
He knew that the demons were attacking them this way because they couldn’t beat Katie and her team. They knew that if they faced her they would lose, even on the plains of hell. This was a good thing, but it didn’t stop hundreds from dying during incursions. Something was eventually going to have to be done, but when?
11
The man on the television screen was shuddering. His clothes were torn, and his eyes were bloodshot and puffy as if he had been crying. “I was standing at the bottom here, and this giant demon came walking through this portal thing. You could feel the heat just wash over the whole town. He grabbed a woman, ripped her in half, and then picked up her arm and started eating it. It was absolutely horrible.” The man broke down into sobs. The reporter interviewing him held the microphone right under his nose to capture every sniffle.
When the man was done bawling, the reporter patted his arm sympathetically. “This has been Randy Waid in the devastated town of Lake Tahoe.” He smiled at the camera. “Back to Greg with sports.”
Moloch and Baal were silent for a moment. Suddenly, they both burst out laughing. Baal folded over and bellowed. They were sitting in their large armchairs in Moloch’s lair with glasses of blood wine and plates of puppy-head cheese.
Moloch slapped the handle of the chair. “That guy…oh, that guy…he saw me eat the hippy. Oh, Lucifer, that’s hilarious.”
Baal cupped a hand over his mouth and tried not to spit out the big gulp of wine he had just taken. He finally swallowed and leaned his head back. “Oh man, Moloch. You really got a home run on that one. That’s fantastic.”
Moloch wiped tears from his cheeks. “A home run?”
Baal nodded. “Yeah, you know. Like that human sport, baseball. The one where they use their bats and hit balls and then run around bases.”
Moloch rolled his eyes. “Leave it to the humans to come up with something so stupid. Now, if they hit heads from the shoulders of the damned and had to jump lava runs, that would be hilarious.”
Baal shrugged. “I kind of like it. And they have this catchy tune too. Take me out to the ball game, take me out with the crowd. Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jacks, I don’t care if they never…”
A knock on the door drew their attention. A small demon stuck his head in.
Moloch sighed. “Yes? What is it?”
The demon came just inside the room and looked down. “Your evilness, I think we might have figured out who the new human is.”
Moloch’s face darkened. “You might have? Or are you sure?”
“Pretty sure, oh terrible one.”
Moloch nodded. “Well?”
The demon edged farther in. “He’s a famous actor and politician. His name is Arnold Schwarzenegger.”
Baal waved his hand at the television, and the news program blinked off. The screen filled with a young Arnold Schwarzenegger walking through a packed nightclub with sunglasses on. He began shooting the dancing fools with a shotgun. Moloch watched curiously as Arnold chased people through the streets.
“Does seem like a bad sort,” Moloch admitted.
Baal pointed at the television and the screen flipped again. Now Arnold was standing next to a short, round man wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Arnold was grinning, the short man didn’t seem to be happy at all.
“He’s a friend to trolls, too?” Moloch asked.
“And a politician,” the small demon reminded him.
Moloch growled at the screen. “And a politician too? What party?”
The demon rubbed his claws together nervously. “Republican, sir.”
Moloch slammed his fist down. “I hate those guys. They are always preaching, reminding the humans what God wants. The liberals are so much easier to bring to our side. They’re all about sinning. They even have rallies for it. Now Katie has recruited some human superstar to her team. What for? Vanity? No, I think they are mocking me. They are showing me that even some action hero from the television can come to my land and destroy my demons. I won’t allow it!”
Moloch stood up and stomped his foot, knocking Baal’s glass over. Baal looked at the spilled wine. “Aw.”
Moloch turned. “Baal!”
Baal jumped up. “Yes?”
Moloch rubbed his chin. “I want you to go after this Arnold character. You find him, slap the glasses off of his stupid face, and I want you to fucking kill him. Bring the body back here. Try not to mangle him too much. I want to have a good look at this son of a bitch. Understood?”
Baal saluted him. “Yep. I’ll take some of the small demons with me if that’s all right?”
“You, mighty Baal, can’t handle this actor on your own?”
“I could,” Baal admitted, “but I’d like to bring along a few demons to go shopping. My new chef has been asking for specialty ingredients.”
“Fuck me. Chefs.”
Baal shrugged, helpless. “He’s an artist, Moloch. He’s a tyrant.”
Katie paced back and forth outside of Dr. Thorough’s office, waiting for the doctor to tell her anything useful. Turner was still in sickbay, and the research team was still looking over their data. Katie had nothing to do. So she paced, and it was driving Thorough and Alice absolutely nuts. Finally, Alice let out a deep breath and swiveled around in her chair, staring at Katie.
Katie stopped in the doorway. “What? Did you find something?”
Alice put on a fake smile. “It’s going to take us a really long time to get all of this together. You might want to consider going back home, and then we can call you whenever we are done.”
Katie’s eyes shifted to Thorough, but he was too entranced by the data. She looked back at Alice and shrugged. “All right, sounds good. Don’t mean to be in your crosshairs. I just get itchy when there is something going on and I can’t jump right into it. You know? I’ll collect the team.”
Katie hurried off down the hall. She would actually be glad to get out of there and head back to New York. She burst into the common room to find the team talking trash with Turner. The young man was still heavily bandaged, and he looked pale, but he was alive.
Katie took in the sight and smiled. “Pack up. We’re heading back to New York.”
Brock started barking orders to his men, and they hurried off. Juntto walked up to Katie. “Do we get to watch a movie on the flight?”
Katie shrugged. “Sure? Did you have something in mind?”
Juntto shook his head. “No. Just ready to get out of this Arnold character. He’s a bit bulky.”
The team gathered in the hangar, loaded down with their gear. The plane was already prepared. They said goodbye to Alice and the doctor but got the feeling that the two were ready to be left alone for a bit. Everyone took their seats on the plane and relaxed, letting the staff take care of them. As the plane took off from the runway, the lights dimmed, and the screen in the front lowered.
Juntto clapped his hands. “Yes!”
Pandora snickered. If he’s going to pick his characters from the movies, I’m going to start requesting Disney Princess films. He can walk around looking like Abu.
Katie giggled. Or the white rabbit.
The music on the screen blared, and Katie was confused for a moment. She slapped her forehead when she realized they were about to watch The Matrix. This would not be good. She turned to Angie. “Well? Which character do you think Juntto is going to be?”
“Agent Smith has a certain Juntto-esque quality about him.”
“I’m putting my money on Neo. Juntto likes to be the star of the show.”
“Neo’s skinny.”
“He likes the attention and praise from it all. I don’t think it really matters what size the character is. Juntto is strong regardless of what he looks like.”
Everyone joked around and talked during the movie, except Juntto, who moved up a few aisles. He was totally focused on the film. He glanced back at the others whenever the volume of their voices went up. By the time the movie was done, Juntto was clapping and asking for the next one. “This can’t be the only Matrix. There are too many unanswered questions.”
Brock chuckled. “It’s not, but we didn’t bring the other ones with us.”
Juntto slapped his hand against his leg. “Next time, then. We will continue this epic saga. I’m going to use the bathroom.”
Katie and the others watched Juntto lumber to the back.
Turner shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable. “Seriously, this guy would have movie marathons that lasted years if he could. I love The Matrix, but I’m not really ready to binge the movies. My head would hurt by the end of it.”
Brock grinned. “Your head hurts at the end of Sesame Street.”
Turner pointed at him. “Hey, no jokes against the injured guy. I’m off-limits here, dude.”
Brock scoffed. “Please, you aren’t dying. And even if you were, you know I’d rag on you on your death bed.”
Turner smiled. “I know. That’s why I love you, man.”
Eddie turned to Sean. “They’re so sweet.”
“Near-death experiences bring that shit out in you,” Sean explained.
“I’m getting emotional over here.” Eddie grabbed Sean with both tattooed arms, pulling him into a bear hug. “So emotional.” The hug turned into a head-lock, and soon Sean and Eddie were wrestling in the aisle. Sean struggled against him, but Eddie cackled and held him in the head-lock. “I love you man. Why won’t you accept my love?” Sean burst into laughter and tapped out.
The door to the back opened and Juntto came walking up to the front, then sat down in the chair. Everyone turned and looked at him. They were no longer staring at Arnold. Sitting there was Morpheus, straight out of the movie. He had the boots, the long trench, the whole nine yards. “I like this character. He’s a badass.” Even his voice sounded like Morpheus. “Neo?” Juntto shrugged. “He is kind of a wimp all the way up until the last scene. Juntto is never a wimp and never has been. Oh, and look at this.”
Juntto jumped up and whipped around, opening up his jacket. There strapped to his hips, were the same samurai blades Morpheus used. Juntto smiled and winked, very proud of himself.
All Katie could do was shake her head. She had to admit, the guy had some serious talent when it came to shapeshifting.
Brock stood up and
walked around Juntto. “That’s a pretty good likeness. Though I have to say if anyone sees you, they are going to be a bit confused. Probably ask you for your autograph and such.”
Juntto shrugged. “I can give autographs. How do you spell Morpheus?”
“Laurence Fishburne,” Eddie guessed.
Juntto just looked at him with confusion. “What?”
“The actor that plays Morpheus is Laurence Fishburne. You can’t sign something Morpheus,” Turner replied.
Katie put up her hands. “How about I make a rule: no autographs. This is already a tricky enough situation. If you go signing autographs, then people are going to catch on. No pictures, either. In fact, if you’re going out, I would appreciate it if you looked like someone else. Someone not famous.”
Juntto placed his arms behind his back and considered this seriously. Or at least, he appeared to consider it. “No.”
Katie closed her eyes and counted to ten. “At least ditch the outfit and wear something else. We have enough attention as it is.”
Brock went back to his seat. “I like the fact that we’re fighting with Morpheus. Makes us seem a lot more badass than before.”
“He’s Morpheus,” Eddie mused. “Maybe I’m Neo.”
“Maybe you’re Trinity.” Sean giggled.
“Shit.” Eddie shrugged. “Still a badass.”
Katie sighed and looked out the window. “It’s like working with a bunch of children.”
Pandora laughed. Hey, you’re the one recruiting all the dudes. You have to expect there will be some level of nerdy action in this group. I’m surprised they haven’t pulled you into a rousing game of D&D.
No way. I would refuse. Next thing I know I’m on the front page of the newspaper with my wings out, beating some nerd senseless because he beat out my level whatever mage with his stupid goblin.
Sheesh. You’re a sore loser.
I have a competitive streak. Nope. I’m going to stick to movies at the most.
Pandora sighed. Fine. But I want to watch something with Catwoman in it. Something besides the newest Batman.
