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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
Arabian Frights
Author Message
JimCaedus Offline
Trash Talker Skywalker



XWF FanBase:
Mixed

(loved by some; hated by some; dips between clean/dirty)


#1
01-16-2018, 10:59 PM

======€@£|)Ų$======




















--Days Ago--


::FADE IN on a crumpled ball of paper rolling across a barren flatland of sand and rock, blown along by the wind. It continues on for quite awhile, making a beeline for some sort of colossal rectangular structure and picking up speed with increased winds, bounce-rolling now as it nears.

As we follow and close in on the structure we can make out a stone stairway leading up to the monolith's entrance...

...and the ball of crumpled paper, upon reaching the foot of the stairs, suddenly begins to ASCEND, bouncing upward from step to step to finally pass through the structure's entrance.

From above we track the crumpled ball of paper as it speeds along over a rusted metallic floor for a short time before finally coming to a stop. Then, quivering slightly as it does so (luckily for us with subtitles), the paper ball speaks::


"My liege...we've found him."

A malevolently bass voice, echoing throughout the unrevealed immediate surroundings, responds, "Are we certain this time General Wad? Mistakenly bombing that race of Mimes into extinction may have been as much fun as they were committed to quietly "lassoing and rope-pulling" their way into the invisible box of oblivion...but I grow tired of being denied my revenge."

"Yes my liege, I confirmed his identity personally. The target is on Terra. He's been hiding in plain sight among the ranks of gladiatorial lifeforms who regularly battle for the entertainment of the populace."

"Gladiators you say...interesting. So we can assume heavy resistance. Have you informed Major Slippenfahl? His soldiers will need to intensify their training."

"No. As it turns out-"


::There's a fizzle and sudden flash of electric blue (the telltale sign of amateur short range teleportation) from somewhere above General Wad...

...then a banana peel adorned with tiny ribbons and medals slaps down to the rusted metal flooring upon its four peel "feet", rises like a standing, four-tentacled yellow squid and, while wobbling side to side, roars-::


"WAAAAAAAR!!! I am HERE, my liege! Who's neck, if applicable, shall I break for his grace??"

With pride: "Major Slippenfahl, incredibly convenient timing. Do bring him up to speed, General."

"I was trying to tell you, my liege, before I was so rudely interrupted-" The crumpled ball of paper swivels to the right in the direction of the highly decorated banana peel, slightly un-crumples on the right side and suddenly whips out a corner to slice a paper cut into the banana peel's skin before re-crumpling fully and swiveling back to face their unseen leader. "-as it turns out, those gladiators bear no loyalty for the target, not to mention a great many of them, as well as the populace, seem to despise him."

"MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!! That fool never could avoid alienating all those around him! This is spectacular news, General!"

"Indeed, my liege, with a complete lack of native resistance the mission can be carried out efficiently and with a minimum of resources. I recommend sending only my greatest warrior, Sergeant 'Gill. He-"

"HA, Sergeant Massengill's a douche! Allow ME the honor, my liege!"

"YOU!? Major Slippenfahl, you've become increasingly unpredictable as of late. Not ONLY am I ordering you to return to the officers' barracks but I'm recommending our liege strip you of your rank and that you be dishonorably discharged!"

"SILENCE! ......This bickering is pointless. I shall travel to Terra and deal with him mySELF."

"But my liege, I cannot guarantee your safety if-"

"My "safety"!? You forget, General Wad, he and I share in the power cosmic! If I so choose, I'll DESTROY Terra and HIM along with it! There can be only ONE source of pure garbage in the multiverse..."


::Without warning, a brilliant white light suddenly crackles into existence off-camera, washing the crumpled paper ball and banana peel, as well as their surroundings, in blinding illumination.

Our pov slowly drops to behind both items until at long last the genesis of the light and the identity of their ruler is revealed...



...a silver metallic trash can, lid acting as jointed "jaw" to effectively illustrate speaking and laughing.


"...and it shall be Lord Trash Can who provides it! Phantom Panzer...consider yourself compost! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA!!"


::And with that, the white illumination surrounding Lord Trash Can intensifies before he teleports away with a thunderous boom, leaving General Wad and Major Slippenfahl behind in the darkness of-::


--DUMPSTER PALACE•MULTIVERSE MIDDEN•UNKNOWN STAR COORDINATES--

TBC...

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"Arabian Frights"







--Hôtel Tenere•Eferi Village, Djanet District, Illizi Province, Southeast Algeria•Tuesday Afternoon--


It freaks me right the fuck out the winter weather in Eferi (essentially one HUGE desert) reminds me of the recent winter weather in the High Desert of California where I'd spent 5 long torturous years and much more recently visited with my Apex brothers; same surprisingly seasonally cool temperature as Phelan in context with the environment, just drier. Must be the similar elevation.

It's too cool outside for my taste (not that there's much to see here in Eferi anyway) so I'm relishing the noticeably greater warmth within my well-insulated room provided by the heater I have cranked up to 75° while I pick through a complimentary bowl of dates.

My phone, audio enhanced with blue 808 Canz wireless speaker, thumps out a playlist devoted to the incomparable 2Pac and not out of any particular desire to hear hip hop's G.O.A.T. at the moment, it just so happens to be my latest active playlist is all. No, the reason is I'm misophonic and can't stand the sound of chewing.

Woot.

Woot.

Not all chewing mind you, crunches don't seem to bother me...it's the soft, wet closed mouth chewing piping free from nostrils accompanied by loud gulps that gets to me, including my own. Worse, no one is excluded, whether it be friend, relative, girlfriend, co-worker, stranger- Shit, could be a celebrity or a goddamn super-model, I'll still be grinding my teeth.

Enter Algerian model Myriam Benzerga.

No worries if you don't recognize the name, fam, I didn't know who the hell she was either until after she wound up riding and glazing my package like a warm maple log...and I mean legit right after, during my post-oral pie piss. I had to Google search the name. Anyway...

I never mind treating a woman with me like royalty, no matter who she might be, so when the hotel sent over the complimentary dates, amidst popping a few myself, I'd decided to feed Myriam all romantic like, which is where the chewing comes in...and believe the fuck outta me, this girl can make a single date last ten minutes with her bird-like pecks. Long ago I learned how unkind I could be over my misophonia so since then I'd made sure, when and where able, to fill the atmosphere with white noise louder than that of chewing and in situations where this proved impossible, I'd deal with it out of fear of upsetting someone I either care about or simply value my time with.

The track playing unfortunately ends just as her teeth sink into the current date I'm feeding her. Luckily for me most chicks have a way of looking cute or sexy when they eat so I focus on her lips and amused expression to distract me, 'cause she definitely smacks as wet as she kisses.

During the tail-end of the 6 seconds of silence buffer between tracks (why the FUCK did I set that?), I catch the sound of a vibrate notification on the floor next to the bed. Myriam suddenly sparks to life, eyes wide as she smoothly transitions from nude on her back to nude on her stomach, reaching down to locate her phone from her pile of clothes, quickly finishing off the date in her mouth without further theatricality.

I pluck my own phone up and pause the next starting track out of courtesy and turn to see Myriam raising the phone to her ear.


"هل قال نعم؟"

"أنا آسف والد، لم أطلب منه حتى الآن."


I'm tempted to activate and hit the speak-to-translate on my app but I don't want to offend.


"مرت أربع ساعات. ماذا كنتم تفعلون!؟"

"......"


Myriam plucks up and gathers her clothing to her breasts as if someone other than I can see her. Maybe I should be listening in. I'm not sure if the mic would pick up the male voice on the other end but it damn sure would translate her side. Nevertheless, I decide against it.


"لم أفعل أي شيء، الأب. نحن نستمع إلى الموسيقى وتناول التواريخ."

"لديك زوج وطفل، ميريام."

"وأنا أعلم ذلك! قلت لك لم أفعل شيئا!"

"كنت أفضل أن أقول الحقيقة. الله يعلم ما هو في قلبك."

"اقسم!"

"ثم التوقف عن إضاعة الوقت!"


The tone for end call sounds. Why do I suddenly feel my abduction sense tingling? I mean, it had struck me as random af this pseudo celebrity 1st runner-up to Miss Arab World 2006 would seek me out for a lay but even after my quick research I'd chalked it up to a semi-famous groupie at best or some sort of combo play of that and also gaining more fans through an unexplored avenue at least. Now this...this emotional exchange has painted things in a more negative light. Perhaps terminally so... Goddammit, after the insane flight in with my Apex brothers I'm in NO mood for any more dramatic shit.


"What was all that about," I gently prod with great control?


I watch her fail at masking a worried expression, popping a date into my mouth.


"I......... I have a husband."

"Huk- COUGH!! COUGH!! COUGH!!" Fragments of chewed date spray like buckshot from my windpipe as I choke.

"We have a child together," she pours out with that French accent of hers.

I try not to sound as instantly appalled as I feel despite eyes tearing up from hacking. "And you just come right out and say it like it ain't nothin'? Why the- Why would you tell me this _now_ after we-" I trail off.

Don't Muslims stone adulterous women?

"......"

"......"

"......"

"Baby- I'm sorry, _Myriam_...I won't say a word to anyon. You can leave if you have to, I'm not stoppin' you. Can I call you a taxi?"

Sure and I'll call YOU a horse's ass for letting something like this hap-

"No, no taxi. I...... I did not know you before but my family are all fans. You must understand, we have seen you do the things you do."

???

"The "things I do"?"

"Yes, you help people. Yes? Like those people in the desert back in your country."

Wonderful. Here we gooo...

"What exactly is it you're getting at?"

"I...I come here to ask you something."

"......What?"


She spills.

Kidnappings. 8 children had gone missing from Eferi and the local authority were gaining no ground whatsoever on the investigation. The 8th as it turns out is Myriam's own 9 year old niece.

For some reason these people now ludicrously believe I'm the one to turn to for answers. Christ...a guy can't fight off 20 yeti, slay a colossal black widow succubus and stage a private justice coup without people thinking he's some sorta hero for hire.


"Oh ok, I get it. You thought you'd come on over, butter me up with a little of "the other guy" TLC cowgirl grind treatment then get me to turn someone's ass inside out for you and find some MIA rugrats. That about cover it?"

"I do not understand."

"You used me to get me to help you."


Myriam flusters.


"Use?? I did not use you! What happened was...a mistake-"

"What!? _Fuck_ you!"

"No, no, no, no, no. Please, James, do not use this language here. This is not what I meant to say. What happened... This is something that happens between two people. I find you attractive, you find me attractive. Oui?"


If I get her meaning, she has a point. Plenty of names on my "fucked at first sight" list. Too bad none of them ever saw me as anything more than a bootycall.


This one ain't no different. "Fuckboy".

"Look, just don't...don't like, get into an argument with your husband one day and drop my name, alright? Dealt with enough jilted lovers in my lifetime."

"I would never."

"Mhm." S I G H. "......So? What is it exactly you think I should do about these missing kids?"


÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷


--24.468978, 9.511781•Residential Commons Building off Unnamed Road•Eferi•An Hour Later--


"هذا هو داعش الانتقام من عبد المالك غوري، أنا أقول لك!" I catch "Abdelmalik Gouri" out of that and debate erupts amongst the gathered men and women.

Before our arrival, Myriam had told me the various theories the families had for who was behind all this from the notion of a pack of problem jackals to a rogue predator of the human persuasion all the way up to Daesh-IS terrorists retaliating against the killing of one of their leaders, Abdelmalik Gouri by way of Algerian military forces. The man who just spoke, I was told earlier, believes the latter and belongs to the local police force as do 3 other fathers in attendance. And considering Algerian cops and military personnel had been targetted the past few years by suicide bombings, they're not exactly flinging baseless accusations.

I hope to God they aren't right about that. What the fuck am I supposed to do against a group of men with AK-47s and a flair for filming beheading videos?


Lose your head probably.


The remaining 3 fathers and 1 single mother are in fact neither police or military personnel but they are all detractors of terrorism in their country among many locals who do support ISIS...and in light of the stern, stubborn nature provided by the arguments of the men who ARE, their theories just might be getting switched from carnivore predation to Daesh kidnappings. That ain't good; they'll be pushing me out the door to hunt down rabid jihadists whether they're truly the culprits or not and I really don't think I have it in me.

One of the men calls for silence before-


"هذا الجدل لا جدوى منه. لدينا قطعة واحدة من الأدلة على المضي قدما، والسماح له بدء النظر هناك."

"انه على حق. السماح جيمس التحقيق في الكهف."


I heard "James" that time and I flinch, looking to Myriam but she's focused on the speaker.


"أي منا سوف تظهر جيمس إلى الكهف؟"


There it is again. They're definitely talking about me. This time Myriam notices I'm staring at her questioningly...and nervous.


"وسوف تظهر له، والد," she adds, looking away.

"أنت بالتأكيد لن. هل يمكن أن يصاب بأذى أو أسوأ. ميريام كنت لا تعرف حتى أين الكهف هو."

"سأأخذه إلى الكهف."

"نعم، خيار أفضل بكثير."

"أنا أتفق."


Myriam looks to ME now.


"لا أحد يخالف؟"


Silence for several seconds...


"موافق، وافق." He turns to one of the men in particular and says, "يجب أن تترك الآن، ليس هناك وقت للانتظار."

"سأذهب أيضا، الأب. يمكنني ترجمة لجيمس."


Again my name, this time spoken by Myriam. The man she's speaking to grimaces in disapproval and opens his mouth to respond before he's interrupted.


"أعتقد أنها على حق. ميريام يتحدث الإنجليزية أفضل من بقية منا. لن يساعد إذا كان جيمس لا يفهمني."

Ok, that's it.

"Someone wanna clue me in to what's going on right now? I keep hearing my name."


Myriam is quick to answer diplomatically.


"I'm sorry James, of course. This man and I are to show you a cave outside Eferi."


My heart skips a beat. A cave?


A cave they probably suspect to contain a theoretically active ISIS cell. And if they're right, fuuuuck me!

"I don't know if I can do this, it's ridiculous. What sense does it make none of YOU people are doing this yourselves or, better yet, sending the local police to this cave instead of me?"

"I told you, the shoe is not evidence enough for the police. Those with us here have been ordered to not waste resources and the rest..."

-are too afraid. Yeah, I get it.

"......Alright. Screw it. When do we leave?"

Idiot.


÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷


--Tassili n'Ajjer Mountain Range--







The temperature may be in the mid 60s outside the vehicle but within, with the windows up, again just like the High Desert, the closer proximity to the sun at this elevation sees its roasting rays radiating through the windows and already has sweat beading at my hairline.

The scenery speeding by as we fly down the dirt road parallel to the mountains leaves a lot to be desired; at least in Phelan there are yucca, shrubs and greasewood trees to break up the diarrheic brown of the rocks and sand.

To make matters worse...what the FUCK are they playing on the car stereo right now?? I mean, in a less stressful scenario I'm sure I might find it interesting but right about now, I lean forward from the back, stab at the radio and power it off.


"Can we..._not_ right now? I swear to Go-"

"الكهف هو حق هنا."

"Said says we have arrived, James."

Typical. I shoulda shut the damn thing off miles back.


Said slows to a stop while I survey the landscape and...

There...I see it. Something like 100 yards away and up a 35° incline, the yawning inky blackness of the cave's mouth set into the mountainside. I look to Myriam out of my peripheral vision to see her staring in the same direction.


"I hope you people ain't expectin' me to walk in there armed only with my sharp tongue and slut-splitter."

"I'm sorry?"

"Weapons, Myriam; pistols, rifles, explosives. Do we have any."

She turns to address Said. "هل جلبت أي أسلحة؟"

"هناك سيف ومجرفة في الجذع."

"هل هذا كل شيء!؟"

"هل نحن جميعا من المتوقع أن يواجه تهمة الخيانة لتسليم الشرطة والأسلحة العسكرية للمدنيين الأجانب!؟"

"كنت تطلب من الرجل العثور على أطفالك ولكن كنت ترفض السماح له سلاح للدفاع عن نفسه من الخطر!؟"

"K, I'm gonna go ahead and assume all that means there ARE no weapons, right?"

"لا تفاجأ إذا كان يرفض مساعدتكم جميعا الآن," she spits venomously at Said before, "In the trunk there is a sword...and shovel."

!?

"Heeeell yeah, I always wanted to recreate that scene from Raiders where Indy blasts the guy with the sword except a reversal so _I'M_ the idiot bringin' a knife to a gun fight!"


Myriam doesn't understand the reference I'd wager...but she understands the anger.


"I am sorry, James, I did not know you would not be properly armed. I would not blame you now if you change your mind. But I beg you...please do what you can."


We sit in silence while every cell in my body screams F U C K T H I S !

I catch Said eyeballing me in the rearview and meet his gaze. He flinches away. I look to the passenger side mirror to find Myriam gazing at me pleadingly.


Don't do this. Tell them to take you back to your hotel, don't even apologize. This is absolutely the worst idea ever conceived and you WILL be murdered, not die, MURDERED if you go through with it.

"........." Sigh.

The FUCK are you doing!?


I open my back passenger door and step out of the vehicle walking around to the rear. Said pops the trunk and there, as Myriam described, lies a shovel and a sword- well, a machete to be accurate.

I pluck up the machete.


Grab the shovel too. Bury yourself now and get it over with.


I leave the shovel and instead stab my free hand into my pocket to retrieve my phone. My thumb clicks the contacts icon, I scroll down to Robert Main, I click...and there my thumb hovers over the call icon.

If I tell him what's going on he and Drew will just talk me out of it like they should and if I try to make this a "just in case you don't hear from me again" message I'll most likely get the same result.

I close my eyes, my heart beginning to race as the reality sets in: no matter how badly I want to leave......I know I'm going to do this even though it might very well be the last thing I ever do...

I exhale heavily and open my eyes, using the back arrow to exit the contacts list. I notice a notification bubble over the Twitter widget and the thought of Tweeting crosses my mind momentarily before I dismiss that idea as well.


How are there Twitter notifications by the way? I'm positive I logged out like 2 weeks ago... I better not find out someone's been hacking my accou-

"Do you want me to go in with you?"


Myriam's sudden presence beside me makes me jump.


"Absolutely not."


I'm lying of course. Yeah, I want someone to go with me, who wouldn't? I give her the opportunity to argue over the span of the next ten seconds in silence.

She doesn't.


÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷


"Ain't this a _bitch_? No, not gettin' guilt-fucked into potentially rescuing kidnapped Algerian grubs though instead more than likely getting shot to hell like James Caan in The Godfather, I mean havin' to compete in a handicap match at Warfare and not havin' the honor o' one o' those opponents bein' the mighty Bilbo Blumpkinz.

The Artist Formerly Known As Josh Reno? Really? If bx3 had to rep for the opposing team, the not gay, slutty, twisted 'tater on wheels woulda definitely made up half of an intimidating duo, he actually _killed_ a guy. Gaybe Lincoln, popped his eye right out of his head, it was grossly neato. Bilbo's absolutely honest-to-God one hundred percent for reals gay butler/spunk-sponge Josh Reno Sebasstian Dyke or whomever though? Dude tried to blow me in reaction to a strategic dick-skewer-head maneuver and already lost in team competition against deez nuts _once_, must we _really_ see a slightly different sequel to that disaster?

"Jim, should _you_ be _flirting_ with disaster, predicting victory like an asshole," Floyd might ask right now if he'd had the balls to NOT decline a free ticket to Algeria as any sane American also would?

To which I'd reply, ain't no flirting with disaster over predicted victory Floyd, when my opponents obviously have no desire to win and get stuck together as a tag team in lieu of this handicap match's stipulation. I mean, I could be wrong, maybe it ain't as cut and dry as all that...but over two weeks' time, neither has done much to hype the contest or trash my ass with harsh shit talk (and they both could've BURIED ME if they'd wanted to) beyond an apathetic Griffin gif and a handle/aesthetic "curveball" from the guy I'm beggin' to just stretch his urethra 'round the barrel of a magnum and pull the trigger, plus an intriguing bit of Panzer magic with the cosmic clown's responsibly plot-hole filling ushering of '03 Gravy back to his correct era, ultimately robbing me of the use of relevant time-travel film reference jokes and avenues of insult...that sneaky, selfish pie-slangin' jester jag-off...so I'm assuming, in line with their evident less than subtle un-teamly attitude, these two WANT to lose in the ring as well. That kinda sucks now that I think about it; the clown and I could've had one helluva back and forth. Which reminds me...

Can I say one thing, Panz'? One critique. I hate that popular fear of clowns bullshit I've had to endure from the brainless "I gotta fit in" masses since the original television release of Stephen King's IT in the early 90s. Hate it. Ain't no one over the age of 8 truly scared of clowns, it's a ludicrous notion that instantly forces me to lose ALL respect for he or she who claims it. I'm not tryin' to be a dick I'm just sincerely trying to understand why you choose the form of a clown when you could be something cool or aptly horrific by comparison like a floating pistol or Chris Mintz-Plasse's face? ...Or Chris Mintz-Plasse's face and when the mouth opens the tongue is a pistol! Tiiiiiight!! Why the FUCK am I coming up with better ideas than you when you have the whole of all universes and timelines at your gayly gloved fingertips to take inspiration from? Your name is _Phantom Panzer_ for Christsake, shouldn't you be in the form of like, a, fuck, I dont know, a ghost tank or somethin'? That's a badass idea right there.

And don't get me wrong, I'm not like most of those on the roster who wanna freely take potshots at you, PP, I DO think everything BUT the clown suit is pretty damn good, balloon assault rifle I'm sure shoots bullets or comets or kittens or cocks or seltzer water or whatever-the-fuck it packs included. I think your trash talk is top notch and I dig the whole cosmic power thing. Thought you had a good showing at War Games with all that crazy magic as well...but the clown outfit? Cliché. .

Still, you showed me more respect as an opponent with that pretty dope (though short) vignette than your partner did so I'll do you a solid and try to pin that half-assed-Bruce-to-Brucette-shape-shifting-name-changing-strategy usin' hack "Dyke" instead, cool? That way you can spend some time on the apron brainstorming a form more appropriate for the power you wield, transform and stop lookin' like such a jackassy joke toolbag clown who likes to douchebagishly pick on minors at parties and I say that as a potential fan, PP. Stop fuckin' with the kids, you're better than that.

And now, I apologize, but if you don't mind I got this bullshit mountainside to ascend and wastin' my breath on you two asshats is startin' to wind me..."



÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷


I'm slightly huffing and puffing, mouth-breathing for adequate amounts of oxygen, by the time I've ascended to and stepped foot into the cave, machete in hand.

I see no sign of anything alarming or...anything at all, for that matter, that looks out of place, not that I'm an expert in the expected layout and atmosphere of caves here or anywhere else. However, via mere observation I can see there isn't enough sand to allow tracks, if anyone had recently been in or out of here, for one thing. For another, the latter fact notwithstanding, if this were some sort of ISIS cell hideaway they would've had someone posted and I'd have been either killed or captured by now. Hell, they probably would've noticed and acted the moment they saw the car driving up...

Relief hits me like orgasm. For the first time in hours I feel like shit's gonna be ok. Though...I should probably venture a bit further in seeing as they found that kid's shoe nearby. The absence of terrorists doesn't necessarily mean an absence of missing children.

I activate the flashlight on my phone and press on, making my way through the initial entrance cavern then entering the close quarters extension tunnel leading deeper into the mountain, my boot steps echoing off the acoustics in the otherwise stark silence.

It doesn't take long in this claustrophobic shaft before I notice a scent I wish I'd never achieved familiarity with... An overpoweringly pungent mix of defecation and dead dog with a hint of wrongly sweet. The nauseating stench of biological decay, already constricting my air ways and lungs to the point of choking. Human decay, a smell one ain't soon to forget or fail to differentiate from, say, the stink of a dead cat in the wall crawlspace. Whole 'nother level of disturbingly real. Whole 'nother level of "life is evil".

I can't back outta the tunnel fast enough, spilling the contents of my stomach, dates, onto the rocky floor. I take a minute or so to stop, the taste of the putrid scent on my tongue keeping it going, reminding me.

I'm quick to remove my shirt...as well as a small glass bottle from my pocket. Ah, Drakkar Noir, my personal choice for over a decade. Mixes well with my skin, gives me a sugary scent, makes me more so irresistible to chicks who don't hate it and also find me attractive. For fucksake, I wear it so often and in enough quantities it's no wonder Myriam wanted to smash, if this country's voters could catch a collective whiff they'd elect me president. ...Wait, does Algeria have a President? Do I even have the right kinda people of Persian descent here to qualify for that joke? What the fuck ever, I can't think straight right now. I place the machete on the ground.

I tear both sleeves from the plain white T shirt, dropping one and tearing two small strips from the other before ditching it also and reapplying the shirt. Now cupping both strips in the palm of my left hand, I pop the lid off the travel Drakkar mini and empty the contents onto the fabric with my right. These I twist into my nostrils to ensure that point blank smell remains as an odor shield...'cause now I _have_ to see what's going on in there. Someone's dead in there. Maybe more than one someone. Looks like the lone predator theories of the human persuasion win the pool, no animal would leave rotting corpses in its own den, they'd likely consume it beforehand seeing as they're desperate enough to prey on homo-sapien to begin with in that theoretical.

Machete once again in right hand, smartphone in left, I make quick time through the tunnel which only extends maybe a couple hundred feet, illuminating my way with the phone's flashlight, then finally step into a chamber a bit larger than that of the entrance cavern...

...and through burning eyes I make a count of the corpses while my heart sinks.

They're here. All eight kids in various stages of decomposition, the worst of them ballooning.

I dry heave. Multiple times.

This is definitely not an animal, there don't appear to be any signs of feeding off the bodies, just relatively untouched carcasses (some missing skin from back or chest) showing various methods of untimely death, be it detached limbs, gaping wounds or what have you, I can't keep looking to identify cause of death other than a safely levied "violent end for all".

Anger begins to- No...not anger. Rage. And fuck "begins", rage explodes within me at the imagined moments of demise for these poor kids as I press the light source to my sleeveless-shirted chest in an effort to escape the sight.


::CRACK - clatter::


What I'm assuming to be a rock large enough to startle me upon impact lands somewhere before me in the darkness and I can't turn the light back around, my heart suddenly pounding.


What the fuck...


I see no movement as I pan around the graveyard...

...and catch sight of a noticeable amount of dropping pebbles and sand about five feet in front of me as it all passes through the beam of bright illumination...

...which I whip up to the ceiling, heart leaping in a panic.

Lol, "panic".

I discover what that truly means as the light hits a large diagonally tunneled hole above and a man's face staring down at me from within, his eyes I...I can only describe as liquid balls of swirling blue light.


"WHATTHEFUCK!!??"














That ain't fuckin' human!



(soundtrack)



I find out just how inhuman it is, despite the inexplicable human male head, when the beast drops from its hidey hole, crushes one of the children's rotting skulls with a sickeningly wet crackle-smoosh beneath one of two feet and I'm able to light its roughly 6 foot form in its entirety...

A second is all it takes to first spot the bizarrely present duster length long sleeved jacket open down the middle exposing a thickly furred mammalian torso, the jacket itself a thin, graying number sewn together from what can only be patches of human skin.

What I notice next is the fact this freak has a crustacean's pincer for a right hand because it reaches out towards my throat, perhaps in the hopes of crushing my windpipe or decapitating me, pincer snapping closed like a mouse trap mere inches from said target as I stumble backwards away out of instinct, dropping my phone.

Ground lit now, I see shorter-furred, digitigrade legs and heavy canine paws for feet, like those of a werewolf, left paw covered in the viscera of squashed rotten cranium.

A swipe from the beast's left arm reveals the paw and claws of a lion as they shred my sleeveless T to ribbons, slashing my flesh beneath and nearly ripping my chain hung gold nugget from around my neck. I inhale-gasp sharply.

The shock and fear inspired by this horrifically monstrous mishmash suddenly takes a backseat to my anger over the fresh agony, murdered children and the fact I've taken on Abaddon, a kung fu monk, multiple men on two separate occasions, a giant black widow succubus and 20 yeti before and still lived to tell the tale.


Fuck Noah's Frankenstein here, if he were all that he wouldn't be hiding in a cave preying on kids!

KILL THIS MOTHERFUCKER!



W
R
E
X
U
S

P
L
E
X
U
S


to the furry chest resounds with a THUMP and sees the freak sailing back off its hind paws into the darkness, crashing into the back wall of the cavern with a shrill shriek.

Two seconds of silence culminate to the sound of air literally cloven in twain as something whips out towards me with the speed of a fuckin' bullet, narrowly missing my face and head to the left, my long hair whooshing up and over to the right, before snapping back into the darkness in a blur.


Fuck is this now-


I again backpedal, fuck the phone, towards the cavern's exit tunnel then spin and dash in just as the object again whips out to me, this time catching the back of my hair and ripping out several golden strands as I power forward.

I knock my own shoulders into the rock walls several times in my escape, diving out of the tunnel's mouth into the front cave, amazed I'm still tightly gripping the machete, then contorting around to face-

-bouncing glowing orb eyes in the ebony followed by the freak squeezing out of the tunnel, roaring and revealing a previously unseen mouthful of pointed teeth!

In the waning afternoon light entering from outside, what I expect to appear less frightening only looks more impossibly real despite now visible twisted goat-like horns protruding from either side of the beast's human head and something behind it, a tail maybe, tenting the back of the skin duster.

As it lunges toward me I hear the scrape of a sharp point on rock and before rolling away from a second diving swipe of the lion southpaw...I spy a scorpion's tail, bulbous end and curved stinger, gotta be 7 to 8 feet long, pulled free of the tunnel and arcing up and over the freak's head!

I hop to my feet, stumble back into the wall then leap aside, nearly eating shit face first, as the on-all-fours creature whips its tail out again, reducing a small shallow section of rock wall beside me to a crater in a shower of stone fragments and rock dust.

The beast leaps from its position, powerful limbs propelling it forward in a flash of fur and flapping duster and a split second later I'm SMASHED against the rock wall.

The freak hops back a good two feet as I begin to crumble forward from the impact, then ROCKS me with a swung right pincer backhand to my head as hard as a mace made of bone, casting my vision into a brilliant show of stars set against the black backdrop of momentary unconsciousness.

I feel four long curved claws sink into the fleshy space joining my pecs and I holler before I'm lifted off my feet and THROWN ACROSS THE CAVE, CRASHING INTO THE OPPOSITE WALL!!

I notice the warmth from my gold nugget begin to radiate as I hit the rocky cave floor, no longer seeing stars but instead the blood red of seething rage. I spy and snatch up the dropped machete beside me, relinquished on impact, before I fully stand.

The creature meets my rage gaze and narrows the human flesh around it's own glowing orbs before snarling and again launching its tail out at me-




-I catch the fucker with my left hand just behind the venom bulb, yank with the strength of two Caedae, flipping the beast over foward onto it's back, lop the tail off midway with one clean machete stroke, venom squirting free from the wound in a shower of death, twirl the tail in the air and catch it at the stump then swing it down, spearing the stinger into the creature's crown with a THUK!!













It LEAPS TO ITS FEET SCREECHING AN UNGODLY BLAST OF EAR-RAPE!!


"Just fucking DIE!!"


I reach out to grab the lopped off tail's stump again with my left hand and pull the beast by the head. Spasming, shaking and shivering with a penetrated brain, it loses its footing and falls to it's chest while I drag it to me.

I lift the tail into the air with a grunt against the beast's weight, it's unnatural ocular orbs and human face forced to look up into my now zombified eyes-




-and I hack through it's neck and spinal cord with three chops of the machete.


÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷


The setting sun still allows for enough daylight vision to see a human head with still glowing blue ord eyes, goat horns and a scorpion tail lodged in it's brain drop onto the car's windshield, startling both Said and Myriam from their forward silent stare into an in unison scream.


"Kids are dead, monster's dead, PHONE'S GONE, now take me the FUCK back to the hotel!!"


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