Aliens, Time Rips, Cult Books, and Multiverse Terror: 4 Cosmic Horror Stories of Apocalypse and Weird Chaos

0:03 Well, hello, my Spookyes, tonight we're stepping away from the safe little rules of ordinary life and into the kind of horror where time tears open, the sky is wrong, and the universe starts making threats. It fully intends on keeping somewhere ahead of us. A bad idea and a burst of music punch a hole clean through reality. Somewhere else, mourners in grease paint gather beneath funeral lights, laughing very hard, while midnight creeps closer. Beyond that waits a battlefield at the edge of everything, where worlds live or die on the strength of one final stand. And before the night is through an old book, an older e and one very unlucky fool will discover that some roads do not lead out of trouble. They lead straight into the mouth of it. So settle in, keep one eye on the stars and the other on the shadows, and make sure you're subscribed on your favorite podcast app, because every single Wednesday, we have a brand new scary story rise from the grave right here on Weekly Spooky. Now, let's begin the fun.

1:42 Saint Jimmy by Dan Wilder. When I was sixteen, I discovered a shocking truth that changed the course of my entire life dramatic enough. Four, Well, what comes next will either have you ignoring me as a crackpot or and this is what I hope heeding my words. So what am I talking about? Time travel? Of course, it went a little something like this. It was summer, and my cousin Philip, and I were sitting pullside, listening to tunes and having a chill time until someone didn't like whatever hair metal masterpiece we were playing and decided to counterattack with their own radio a few houses away. I looked up, and at that moment, as the sonic waves collided, I saw it a shimmer, a slight disturbance, as if in a trance. I walked over to the phenomena. Upon further examination, it looked like a a hazy tear in the afternoon air, and being both young and naive, I did what anyone would have realized was a monumentally shitty idea. I shoved

3:15 my hand in there. I could feel something in my grasp, something soft, something artificial. I pulled out an inflatable beach ball adorned with a large Ghostbuster's logo, before the portal snapped shut as my cousin, who had now seen me standing a distance away, clicked off the radio. Hey, numb nuts, what are you doing over there? I couldn't really say, it made no sense, and the words failed me, so I just held up the ball and showed my cousin with a look of bewilderment on my face. As he sauntered over to me, he offered his usual wisdom, Are you just gonna play with your balls all day? Or are we going backpool side? I held the ball forth like a talisman. That's when my cousin snatched the orb and he went from grinning to shock that ball It can't be. His confusion did little to bring me out of my stupor. Let me see that. He grabbed the ball and examined it like a jeweler inspecting a rare stone.

4:38 I gave this ball to my friend Jeff, Remember Jeff, Yeah, I managed. I gave this to him the summer of eighty five, before he moved away, right where we're standing, before he yeah, before he died. You're sure this is the same ball? Philip rotated it, and sure enough, there it was. Jeff. We'll be friends forever, even if your dumb ass has to move inscribed in silver sharpie on the black vinyl. That was four years ago. But look, Philip ran his fingers over the metallic ink, causing it to smear. The writing is still fresh. I explained where the ball had come from with a deep sigh, ready for Philip to let me have it. For being both a liar and some sort of smart ass show me.

5:46 He said, Oh okay, I said, before realizing I had zero fucking clue how to go about that. In Philip's defense, he immediately believed me, and for the next decade he was patient. After I tried every experiment to recreate the incident, the first thing I discovered was both the importance of the music's tone and the exact distance between the conflicting tones that would result in a time rip. Honestly, it wasn't complicated, didn't require any math or some fancy Victorian fuck chair or fancy car. It was all sound, and the ease of its use revealed why people had never figured out its secret. You can always count on a smart motherfucker to overcomplicate things, though, to be fair, exact precision placement is key. Oh and I can just feel when the vibration is about right in my inner ear. Anyhow, we could pull all sorts of shit out of there, and it changed depending on where we opened up the void, missing keys, mismatched socks, birthday cards. It was that last one that became important. My parents died about five years

7:20 into this whole affair, and when I pulled that fucking card out, every bit of sorrow and loss washed over me in waves that became short lived. When Philip interjected, we should try and contact them. It seemed so right I'd be able to hear them one more time, Tell them I love them one more time. A few diagrams, a little experimenting, and an extra phone, and we were off to the races. Finally, I thought I had it. Two phones, in this case, we were using the club classic Garfield model and one of those see through numbers like the one in the Guns N' Roses patience video.

8:08 I dialed the number nervously, a number I had called one hundred times. It rang and rang and rang. Maybe it won't work this way phones, and all suddenly someone picked up on the other end. Hello. It was unmistakably my mother's voice. The tears started and didn't stop. I miss you and Dad, Jimmy, Yeah, it's me, It's me. Static buzzed, Jimmy, Jimmy. The line went dead. That fucking sealed the deal, that's for sure. If I could hear them, I knew I could see them again. Just a few more tweaks, make that hole a little bigger. We had set up shop at the school across from where my parents had lived, a house that had been boarded up for years as I just couldn't bear to sell it, but I sure as shit couldn't live there. Due to it being Christmas break, it was a real ghost town.

9:37 And as soon as we picked the lock on the cafeteria service door and slipped inside, we set up our amplifiers and boom boxes and got down to fucking brass tacks. Philip had managed to score a camcorder and shit from the electronics store he worked at, and as he calibrated it or jammed a tear tape inside it or some such shit, I got to work on how to make that hole bigger. As before the exact tones were what were key, and soon, with guitars screaming and drums pounding, I got those signals to match and boom a bigger hole.

10:21 I swallowed hard wish me luck. I grabbed the camcorder and walked towards the sparkling gash in the universe. Good luck, dumbass. I stepped in and my head exploded with light and sound. When my senses returned, I realized where I was, exactly where I had stepped in, But no amps, no fillip, just an angry, glowing hole and a calendar on the wall that read nineteen eighty nine instead of nineteen ninety nine as it should. The school was equally abandoned, and I soon exited and entered the parking lot. Snow was beginning to fall in large flakes as I trudged across the street to my parents' house under a full moon.

11:20 No lights on Dad's truck, not in the driveway. Great, I picked the rare night they actually went somewhere. I made my way up the driveway and unlocked the front door with the key I still kept on my keychain. I entered the house, and even in the dark, I could tell that it looked exactly as it had a decade ago. It even smelled the same, like warm coffee and smokes, which you wouldn't think would be nostalgic, but totally was lights flashed outside as a car drove up the driveway. Definitely not Dad. He was a back into the driveway, parking zelot. It then hit me, what would a ten years older version of myself be doing in my parents' house. That may be hard to explain. Maybe I don't look that different. Maybe I can just pretend to be me. I hid in the seldom used downstairs closet and peeked out of the slightly ajar door to get a sense of who was coming home. The headlights retreated as the door opened, and the kitchen light switch was turned on. And there I was. Fuck nineteen eighty

12:51 nine Me looked young. Nineteen ninety nine. Me was already overly tired even in my mid twenty Oh crap, I remember this night. I just got back from National Lampoon's Christmas vacation. Yep, there's the popcorn bucket. I'm still eating from butter soaked kernels with sour sweet spree candy mixed in, going into my open gob with wild abandon. Be careful, my dude, that shit is already catching up with me. Philip's older sister drove us not important, but definitely part of the fond memory slash dopamine hit mixed with deja vus.

13:38 For me, at least, that sets the tone for this whole sordid shebang. Did I mention that the closet was just off the kitchen, Well it was, and I gasped as I opened the fridge just inches away from where I was hiding and poured myself a large glass of unsweetened iced tea, then sauntered off to play some Nintendo and masturbate a classic late eighties Jimmy Knight. I remained in the closet, dizzy from the re experience waves of nausea, swaying to and fro Okay, maybe I should have thought out a little more what I would do when I got here, but it's too late to deal with that now, which seems ironic given what we're dealing with here. I needed to get back to the school and think things over.

14:33 Should be easy, peasy, given that I'm currently distracted upstairs. I exited the closet with Ninja level stealth, which means I only knocked a minimum amount of shit everywhere as I awkwardly stumbled out, only to see the familiar red lights of my dad backing up the driveway. This was supposed to be sweet and emotional. Now it's an exercise in terror. Wait, I got it. My parents stepped into the kitchen and I hugged them tightly. My ruse was flawless. Upstairs, Me couldn't care less that his parents were home, so he was set. And I had pulled the hood of my sweatshirt over my head so as to disguise the fact I had a completely different haircut and had put on a solid fifteen pounds since they left earlier. My dad, whom I'd never hugged a day in my life, seemed shocked, but my mother seemed to enjoy the sudden affectionate outburst.

15:45 Only the phone ringing brought the picture perfect moment to an end, and of course it was my dumb ass on the other end, calling from the future. Well you've already heard the call, but now my parents turned to look at me strangely. Who was that? I asked sheepishly. It sounded like you, my mother responded, Confused as fuck. I broke out into a bit of the old unconvincing laughter and offered that damn Philip, his pranks never end.

16:31 I shot glances to my parents to see if they bought that one. Confusion continued to rule the room. Well, I better head out. Where are you going? An innocent question, but really really not needed. At the moment, before I could answer my mother, I heard the floorboards creak above the kitchen, right where my room was located. What the hell was I going to do? Now? If I walked down those stairs and popped into the kitchen to find me talking to my parents, shit would decidedly head south quicker than it already was. And as if on que down I came to say I panicked would be an understatement.

17:23 My dad turned and saw me entering the kitchen where I was currently standing. Brains were starting to break, mostly mine, So I did the only thing I could. I ran up to myself and planted a huge kiss on my own lips. Look, we all react to stress differently. Also, this was an incredibly sucky decision. Our lips collided, and time and space unraveled around me, both of me technically and as each bizarre iteration of reality danced past my eyes, I mercifully lost consciousness. As a large animal roar sounded far in the distance. I woke up at the school.

18:19 Philip was frantically trying to drag me out of there. Everything was hazy until we arrived at Philip's apartment. Anyway, a cup of coffee in hand, we began to fill each other in as best we could. How long was I gone? A week? A whole fucking week. I kept going back to check for you, but there was no sign until to day. What day is it? New Year's Eve? Not that that's important. Tell me what went on? Did you see them your parents? I sure did? Details well.

19:03 I hid in a closet, hugged my parents and kissed myself on the lips. That's great. Wait what I confronted myself and it was all I could think to do. That's all you could think to do? Yeah, it was a stressful day. So how were you? How was I? Yeah? As a kisser, good form, soft lips. Are you getting off on this? What? No? Hell? No, I was pretty good. I knew it the fuck you mean? You knew it? Nothing?

19:43 Thinking out loud? What happened next? You know, a total falling apart of reality and maybe a monstrous growl or two, and then you came through a week later? Apparently? Do do you think you fucked anything up? What? Do you mean, like, did you break some sort of time travel law or something? When passed in future you locked lips? How the hell do I know? I'm just some motherfucker that discovered he could fuck with time because White Snake and Rat were cranked up to the nines. Fair point. What's next? What's next?

20:27 There is no next mission? Complete. Now we grab some eggnog and watch the ball drop. We can't stop now, it worked. You sent yourself back in time. Imagine what we could see, what we could experience. We can stop at the we part. It's my ass going through those portals. It's that bad of an experience, honestly, No, minus that trip back. So let's do it again. Not sold, my dude. Maybe in the New Year. Well, if the computers all go tits up come twelve oh one, we may need to beat a retreat. Anyway, that's just media bullshit. I'm sure a computer can handle a fucking zero. Besides, isn't like it already two thousand in Australia, Switch on the tube, I bet things are solid down under as predicted. The news showed New Year's Eve going down without a hitch in various locales. See no problem, turn it over to the ball for a fraction of a second. The apartment seemed different, heavily fortified, but Dick Clark distracted me, or the lack of him. Turns out they weren't doing the televised ball drop in favor of some Y two K

21:58 flavored news bull Is there a three Stooges marathon on or something? Philip began cycling through the stations before finding the anticipated hilarious violence. Ah, there it is, Moe grinding a handsaw across Curly's bald head, metal teeth flying from the blade. I laughed, Philip laughed. A commercial broke in for some Y two K preparedness video hosted by Spock of all people. We laughed at that too, until a sweaty Peter Jennings interrupted our slap happy good times. What I'm about to report to you is unbelievable, but it is happening. The camera pulled out slightly, revealing a skeletal arm holding a knife threatening the revered news anchor. An invasion, A surreal invasion is taking place. Creatures monsters. The feed went to static before revealing a reptilian face, cobalt blue and toothy filling the frame. The figure leaned back, revealing a t rex clad in a leather get up with a World War II Nazi helmet, balancing on its nightmare noggin.

23:28 Before the dinosaur even uttered a word, I realized just how much I fucked up. The t rex shifted on his throne, constructed of mangled cars and bones, and cleared its throat, which was a fever dream in and of itself. Philip looked at me sternly. All I could do was shrug. People of timeline one eight eight zero eight seven two hear me A. Caligula Khan, the hero of the Battle of Zarth six, god of the Compsognathis, order of exceleiastic Sharpshooters, principle of Miss Mary's Home for Wayward Girls, and all around draconian leader, have arrived here to expand my dominion.

24:22 We sat open mouthed. You will bow before my leather daddy bone boys, and turn yourselves into your local reassignment center following this very broadcast. There you will receive further instructions A fast moving list of addresses scrolled before returning to Caligula Khan. Also, unauthorized music played at loud volume is hereby for botn shit. I think he's on to us now. Credit where credit is due. None of this would be possible without the help of my Chrono Lost Romeo buddy Saint Jimmy behind con a giant banner unfurled, revealing a portrait of myself adorned in saintly attire. My lips were full and deep, Crimson, and I was preparing to suck my own dick brilliant Philip's glare intensified. What well.

25:30 I hope you enjoyed that smooch because your foreplay is going to end in all of us getting fucked. Oh yeah, I totally planned this knock it off, but you did it. It was kind of virgin territory. There isn't an instruction manual for something that shouldn't exist outside of a rerun of Doctor Fucking Who. How are you going to fix it? Now that I've unleashed Godzilla Hitler on the world, it's you and not we. Huh, that's right, Philip, phil Philly cheese steak. Come on, I'm probably going to need some assistance if I'm going to save our reality and all well, count me out. This is all way too much. I need to clear my head, and with that, Philip exited stage left and straight into the gentle embrace of Cahn's leather fetish skeletons. This was rapidly getting out of hand.

26:37 I sat in Philip's apartment and thought things through, which was a clear mistake given the absolute lunatic asylum nature of the biz at hand. The image of that banner kept coming back to haunt my thoughts. Then it occurred to me step one should be to lean into that shit. A thought pounded its way into my mind with that old deja vus. I grabbed a bag of powdered sugar that freaky phil liked to use in his morning coffee, mostly because I just couldn't help myself. Like Philip, I brazenly strolled from the apartment to the street below. But as with a lot of things, results may vary. I hit the streets, but any skeletal forces I encountered, went down on one knee and made an exaggerated blowjob motion, but it was more station of the cross rather than mocking wise assery. Plan. I need a plan, I repeated in a hushed sing song tone. Skeletons, people screaming, whispered curses wished upon me. None of this was helping. Obviously, more time travel was going to be the answer, but blasting hair metal would track the ire of those bonehead bastards lickety freakin' split. So I walked and I thought

28:08 until a gloved, skeletal hand fell on my shoulder from behind. The being spoke, but a giant ball gag prevented any words from being remotely intelligible. Sorry, pal, no comprende, it mumbled a few more times. I pointed towards the gag, which the skeleton removed with a wet pop that defied logic given the creature's lack of saliva. Jimmy, who's asking? Technically me, skeleton five six seven eight? What's your name? Basically?

28:49 I mean, as far as this occupation is concerned, it's so informal. I agree. Do you have like a first and last name or is it just mister five six seven eight Oliver? What my name is? Oliver? Do you have a last name? Close off? Oliver? Close off. You've gotta be fucking with me. No, that is forbidden. Only Saint Jimmy may fornicate with Saint Jimmy. The regret over this conversation was beginning to surge like a mighty river. Rolling my eyes, I hesitantly asked, okay, Oliver, what can I do for you? The Great Kahn requests an audience with you? Of course he does, But isn't he in Manhattan?

29:42 That's like three hours from here? And I don't have any wheels, my man. Two more skeletons joined the first, carrying boomboxes and kneeled. They played an unholy amalgamation of Celine Dion and Mariah Carey, which opened a vivid lavender hole that Oliver shoved me into without warning. I crash landed hard before the t rex is thrown, as I had a thought, Shit, the tones can be used for spontaneous teleportation. That one never occurred to me. Saint Jimmy in the flesh, Praise be the dinosaur hissed, Praise be the skeleton throng in attendance, repeated reverently. So what can I do for you? Not a hell of a lot besides what you've already done? Great? Well, you're welcome, guess I'll be moseying along not so fast. I'd be honored if you'd be my guest here, guest yeah, guest, like feasts and shit sounds cool? But what's the catch? No catch? Okay,

31:14 I'm game. Do you have like a table or some shit we can gnaws around? Indeed, I do. Con rose from his throne and removed his helmet, revealing a jade green mohawk equal parts hair and feathers. He shook his punk rock mane with wild abandon and gestured towards a giant, blood red curtain, which fell to reveal a long wooden table, the far end of which ended in a cage. Let me guess I'm sitting at the kid's table. I spat, gesturing towards the seat inside the cage. It's just a precaution in case you have any designs on pissing on my parade and all, I wouldn't dream of it. I would hence the ounce of prevention. Caligula Khan motion towards the cage, and I obliged. The courses came fast and furious, and I have to admit the banquet was choice. What exactly is your plan for all this? I asked, through chicken grease smeared lips. Not much really, just a little shift in the ruling class, turn a couple million folks into skeletons under my sway just a Tuesday, really, and

32:44 my part in this your Tiger Beat cover material Baby a pretty relatable human face to soothe and rally the masses. So a traitor to the human race, but cute. Basically I can live with that, I lied, taking another bite of roast chicken. Excellent. Now let's begin the knight's entertainment. Pyro and screeching guitars heralded the arrival of both White Snake and Rat with a sizeable portion of original members.

33:24 The guitars grew quiet, and the performance began with both bands whisper singing a collection of their respective greatest hits. Shit this as Lips was definitely hitting all the right notes to get my attention while simultaneously assuring no time Shenanigans would fuck up his Christmas, so to speak. It was then I remembered my stash from Philip's place. Rat Stephen Parsey came close, crooning way cool Junior, and I held aloft my magic bag and said, by the power of cocaine, you shall sing louder. Kind of anyway, It was more a hey, kids, drugs play louder and don't let Satan's minions know about it, and you'll get your booger candy directly. And by the time they realized that the Columbian gold was actually overprocessed sugar, I'd be balls deep in the time stream words spread fast among the performers assembled that Saint Jimmy was holding and he'd give it up for maximum strength rock and roll. Each band tore through hit after hit, each song getting progressively louder, until I finally caught glimpse of that sparkling portal right inside my prison, And when Con was distracted by an errant piece of meat lodged between two of his copious teeth,

34:57 I made my move and tipped right into the gateway as that fabric tour, I could have sworn that rat was comprised of human sized hair metal rodents. I emerged in nineteen eighty nine Manhattan with no plan and no clue, which admittedly was right on brand, but at the very least there was no t Rex overlords or kinky skeletons. Maybe, with things said at least somewhat back to normal, maybe I could attempt to sort this mess out. As I walked through Times Square, I quickly learned that the mess was much deeper than I thought. For starters, every neon drenched billboard that featured a human form was off by quite a large margin, as every actor or brand spokesmodel was now in anthropomorphic feline. Fuck. I hope real rat based rat never ends up here. I passed a sign for the hot Broadway musical Humans, which featured catfolk in flashy costumes and makeup to make them appear as Homo sapiens.

36:22 I pulled my hood tight over my face because that worked aces last time. But admittedly that's all I had at the moment until genius struck. Maybe I could go a bit sideways, end up in summer of nineteen eighty nine and stop myself from making this discovery in the first place. Technically, I had all the time in the world to work on this little brain teaser. Long story longer, I hit up in cat Haattan and worked on finding tones that could send me where I needed to go.

37:06 I had help, of course, including faithful Fluffy Perhms, a long haired Persian cat with an innate aptitude for time travel. And as Fluffy licked his hand slash pause and wished me adieu, I stepped into the shimmering void and hoped for the best. I emerged behind a bush in Philip's backyard. There we were just lounging by the pool, stuffing our faces with cool Ranch Doritos music blaring. This was going to require crackerjack timing, but that fucking radio was going to get turned down and prevent this horse crap from becoming a reality. I stealthed my way around the deck until I was positioned behind the radio and out of sight.

38:02 I reached up to turn it off. What the fuck? Who's down there? Philip exclaimed? Before I knew it, Philip and I were looking down at me from the deck. Dude, he looks just like you, but like older time comes for us all ass lips. I spat back. He sounds like you too. I reached into my hoodie in the desperate hope to find a distraction, but came up empty. Desperate times indeed, then it hit me, holy shit, guys, is that Kelly Bundy and those dipshits actually looked. I grabbed the radio and booked it across the yard. I could hear Philip angrily discover my Christina Applegate centric ruse.

38:58 I ran further, almost to the back gate, and then out on the streets. I ducked into a neighbor's shed and caught my breath. The deep laughter came soon, pure relief over a situation well and truly avoided. I must have sat in there for a half hour, wallowing in my success. Finally I gathered myself and peeked out of the shed to check if the coast was clear. Shit. The entire yard was filled with leather clad skeletons. I shut the door quietly. What the hell I took the damn radio, I thought. The air and the shed filled with the heady aroma of catnip and burning ozone. A portal opened and Fluffy emerged in full military regalia, and he was flocked by other hard ass cats, as well as at least five different versions of myself. I messed up, huh in a way, But there's no time to explain.

40:11 We need to go, and off I went to try and firefight countless variables across time with an army of cat people and me. Fun In Funerals by David O'Hanlon, The death of a clown is no laughing matter. It leaves a bleak unhappy void in the universe equal to the amount of joy that departed had caused. FeNiS farcemeister white Face of the Amityville Shutter, had brought happiness to millions.

40:58 His body rested in the lavender casket, with his bright red shoes sticking straight up and his orange hair jutting over the side. Before him, a pedestal too large for its contents stood erect as a grim reminder of the task to come. The remainder of his shutter mourned in their own ways while they awaited the arrival of Pastor Crumb. How are we supposed to close the lid, Popsy Pringle asked gruffly, wiggling the toe of Penis's shoe. Might as well just slap some crocs on him. You don't have to be in such a hurry, Popsy, sweet pea cheapskate sobbed. Sweet brother Blippy put an arm around her shoulders and nodded in agreement. The twins were the shutter's resident tramps.

41:45 The tears rolled down Blippy's rotund cheeks and disappeared in the smear of his grease paint beard. The siblings both focused on the pedestal or more accurately, the egg resting atop it. Blippy chewed his lip nervously and tipped his torn top hat respectfully. We all know you'll be the next white face, he said softly. You don't have to be so eager to take it. Callousness is for humans. Clowns are better than that. Popsy groaned and gave his nose a squeak. Spare me. Blippy gasped at the insulting gesture and sobbed on his sister's shoulder. Waldo, Tatter's tied eye shit kickers, clopped across the wood floors with his spurs jangling, until he stood before the egg. Its scaly vermilion shell was painted with Fenis's likeness, and locks of his hair snipped and glued to the sides. Every clown had an egg in their shutter's reliquary. Waldo traced his fingers across the curve of the egg. He took off his cowboy hat and pressed it to his denim shirt.

42:54 Rodeo clowns were rogues and rarely allowed membership in a shudder if Fennis saw beyond Waldo's wily, psychotic demeanor, however, don't you worry none partner, The cowboy said lowly, we won't take too long. We'd better not. Popsy checked his oversized watch. Where the hell is crumb? No one likes a sad clown. Sweet squirmed uncomfortably in her pew. She'd seen a pureaut once. It was the worst thing that could happen to a clown. The code called for funerary games, so that the laughter of the shutter could carry the soul to the Palace of joy. If the games didn't appease the soul of the departed clown, however, it would become trapped in the void, and they would return as a pierrot, a hideous, undead monstrosity that devoured flesh and spread colorophobia. You can't bring joy if the audience thinks you might eat their faces. The code don't cop to convenience, Waldo reminded him. He looked at the flower on Phenis's lapel.

44:03 Its petals danced in the artificial wind of the oscillating fan, but FeNiS remained still. Rather get on with the chase myself. All the same, it'll be a hell of a blow off. Blippy tugged the handkerchief from his breast pocket, dragging out an extra three feet of multicolored linen. He blew his nose on it and folded it back into his pocket. A sad smile stretched across his chubby cheeks. Fenis'll be able to rest easy in the palace seeing the party we threw for him. Gonna be a different kind of party if an we don't get a move on. Waldo padded the egg and sighed. He turned to Popsy, who's the pecker head anyway? His name is Al, A new voice said al musing. The shutter turned their attention to the tiny trapezoidal door leading to the church's rectory. Pastor Crumb's four foot height made it through the door easily, but the prisoner he escorted on a leash took to crawling on his knees to fit through. Pastor Crumb jerked backward as the leather strap went taut. He huffed and waited for the prisoner to catch up, using the moment to attend an urgent itch south of his bulging belly.

45:17 Al doesn't like clowns, the pastor said. He adjusted the white collar beneath his second chin. I imagine he's really going to hate us after tonight. The shutterer laughed. Al tried to stand when eighteen inches of checkered vinyl kicked him square between the shoulders. Popsy knelt on the human's back and held his hand out to Pastor Crumb. Enough propriety, give me the biscuit. Crumb took the revolver from the inside of his jacket and twirled it clumsily on his finger. He shook his head. We have one more point of business. He waved for Popsy to move. The august clown growled, but rose none the less. Popsy rolled his gloved hand theatrically and gave a phony back. He slapped the toe of his shoe down on Al's face. There's no reason for you to get up, he said, the nub of the smoldering stogy between his yellow teeth. Get on with it.

46:11 Pastor FeNiS Farsemeister was a clown of the highest order. We gather here not to just honor the code, he glared over his shoulder at Popsy, nor to anoint a new white face. We are here to say a final goodbye to a clown that was more than a mere leader or friend. FeNiS was a mentor when we were ignorant, a father when we were alone, and a force of will when we were rebellious. He brought joy to the humans like no other clown before him, and in doing so, he restored this shudder to a place of reverence among all clown kin. Amen. Pastor Crumb sweet agreed Fennis did such wondrous works in his two and a half centuries.

47:01 Crumb continued, why if it weren't for him, we might not even have the squirting flower gag. He took juggling to new heights literally by doing it on the tight rope. He restored the pooting bag to glory when he showed the humans how to make their whoopee cushions. There has never been a more beloved and potent clown than FeNiS, and never shall there be. We have had a grand day of remembrance. However, the time has now come to say our final goodbye. Goodbye, they all shouted in unison. Pastor Crumb flipped the lid of the casket shut on Fenis's corpse. It remained propped open by the boldest toes of his shoes. The shutter chuckled at Fenis's final gag.

47:51 Crumb's belly jiggled with raucous laughter. His laughter cut off as abruptly as hitting pause. His smile fell, and the grease paint did nothing to hide the dour expression etched on his face. Al Musing, you have been chosen as the guest of honor, Crumb grumbled. He waved his fingers to signal, popsy away. A clown is dead, A human must die. That is the code to which both our kind are bound. Al stood up slowly and tore the burlap sack off his head. He glared around the room at each of the clowns. You gotta be fucking kidding me.

48:32 Do we look like the joking kind? Blippy asked, Sweet stood and sauntered to the casket. She dragged a wicker basket from underneath its stand and knelt with a smile toward Al, before dumping the contents out. Her aquamarine hair tapered to fusha ends that acted like arrows, directing all gazes to the struggling buttons of her unkempt hoboshik blouse. It took great effort, but finally Als eyes jumped from the cleavage to the cleavers, skittering across the floor. They were oversized and ancient, specked with rust and old blood, and accompanied by matching mallets. So m Al cleared his throat.

49:19 Which one of you makes the balloon? Animals? We all do, dummy, Blippy informed him, good start with a cock and go fuck yourselves. Waldo chuckled. Partner's got some guts. I'll be wearing them like a big pink. Boa Sweet hissed sordidly. The blade of her cleaver scraped a divot in the floor. I'll keep you alive while I pull them out, so you can tell me how ravishing I look before I split your skull open. As appealing as that sounds, how about we just split and fuck each other. Silly a'l winked and blew her a kiss. Blippy jumped up fast enough to knock the church pew over. That's my sister, dick weed, your sister, Al gave the clown a critical once over. Your mom had an affair, you son of a bitch. Enough tom Foolery, Crumb shouted. He jammed the revolver into Al's waistband. We're not animals. We'll give you a shot, but just one fuck it? Why not? Al pulled the leash off his neck and threw it down.

50:30 What's the game? Time for games is past, Popsy said, The chase begins now. All you gotta do is survive until midnight. Al grabbed Popsy's hand. The clown jerked away, but Al held firm and turned his arm over to look at the face of the oversized watch. Forty seven minutes remaining. Probably be easier just to kill you all, Al suggested, that's fun. Popsy shoved Al away from him. You're a real comic, Al choke on my McNuggets. Ronald Al jogged for the door. The clowns set off giant party poppers, showering him with confetti and whooped with excitement behind him. Once he was outside, he took in his surroundings quickly. A polka dot Volkswagen Beetle was parked along the front of the clown church, which looked more like a converted funhouse with its colorful facade and odd angles.

51:29 It was also smack dab in the middle of fucking nowhere. Rows of tombstones extended as far as he could see by the moonlight. All right, all right, think Al, you need a plan. He had a head start a gun with one bullet and five clowns hell bent on murdering him in less than an hour. The outline of a mausoleum then caught his eye. It can't spell slaughter without a laugh. A train whistle screamed inside the church. Waldo rubbed his ears. Crusty h Christ Blippy Pastor Crumb mirrored Waldo, you don't sorry. Blippy hung his head and tucked the whistle into his overalls. I just wanted to let everyone know the chase is starting. We're all in the same room, dipshit.

52:21 Popsy slapped him in the back of the head. Besides, Crumb starts the chase. Crumb padded Phenis's corpse and proceeded to the pulpit. Popsy tapped the back of his cleaver against the metal head of the mallet until he got the precise rhythm. The toes of clown shoes tapped in harmony with it. Popsy scowled and licked his lips with excitement. Strike up the band, we got us a human to kill. Popsy roared, Crumb pressed the button, and Stars and Stripes Forever blared to life through the church's PA system. The four of roared and stormed for the building in pursuit of their quarry. Blippy took aim and smashed the handle free from the mausoleum door. It wasn't his first chase, and the prey usually went straight to the nearest shelter.

53:16 He twirled the mallet in his hands and kicked open the door with a floppy, torn shoe. Sweet rushed into the building with her weapons at the ready. The place was empty. The bronze nameplates of the dead spread across the two longside walls, and the back wall was occupied almost entirely by a stained glass window depicting the first clown at the center and his six disciples and pains around him. Sweet crossed herself and approached the ornate tomb that sat in the center of the room. She took a deep breath and pressed against the top with her shoulder. Its heavy stone lids scraped open slowly. She expected al Musing to reach out for her, but nothing happened. She peeked inside and muttered an apology to the skeletal remains within the tomb. Doe the Mine rested as silently in death as he had been in life. Sweet turned to her brother and shrugged, He's not here, Blippy. She looked around the otherwise empty room. Guess we got it wrong this time, rats Blip threw his hammer down with a clatter.

54:29 I just knew he'd come straight here. Where else could he be? Probably headed to the hedge Maze. Let's meet Waldo there, Sweet suggested. The two tramps skulk out the front door and froze as the headlights blazed before them. Circus music sounded from the VW Bug's horn as it sped toward them, throwing a shower of dirt and grass from its spinning tires. Sweet cartwheeled out of the way, but Blippy was too slow. Sorry to bug, you, Awl, howled with a laugh. The car struck Bli below, flipping him onto the hood. His face smacked against the windshield, streaking the glass with his grease paint. Al smiled at him from the other side. The car smashed through the front wall, ramped off the tomb of Dowie, and launched into the air. They crashed through the massive window, showering the yard beyond in its psychedelic haale. The car landed hard, the tires exploded, the shocks collapsed, but its momentum kept the beetle, careening forward until it hit the oak tree.

55:30 Al batted the air bag down and beat his shoulder against the bent door. It finally squeaked open and fell off beside the car. Al got out and popped his neck with a groan. Blippy bee Cheapskate's eyes dangled from his skull, forced out by the impact. The rest of him just burst open like a confetti filled balloon animal and sprayed the area in viscera. Al chuckled, Guess that answers how many cars you can fit in a clown? Sweet jumped over the car and slashed it Al with the cleaver. He ducked and rolled, grabbing the car door and swinging it by the window frame to bat the diminutive nymph away. Let me get the door for you, Al quipped, hardy fucking har harror. Sweet spat blood with jokes like that, you could be a birthday clown. Do you think I have the chops? I'll give you some chops.

56:22 Sweet lunged forward. Al held the car door up like a shield. Sweet's cleaver cut through the thin metal with ease. Al fell backwards, flipping the tramp over him in the process. He snapped to his feet, but Sweet was up before him and climbed his body, her stocking legs wrapped around his neck. She locked her ankles behind his back, twisted her fingers into his mop of blonde hair, and squeezed her thighs tighter. Lucky fella, dying with your face in my cotton, candy, Sweet laughed maniacally. As Al weakened and fell to his knees. Sweet dropped backwards, grabbing her own ankle to tighten the hold. Al threw ever weakening punches at her. She drove her elbow into the top of his head like a jackhammer. Al slumped over his fingers, tapped and dragged through the grass for anything that might help enough, clowning around. Sweet stretched out, reaching for her cleaver.

57:14 I'm going to cut off all your appendages in alphabetical order. Ah. Sweet rolled away from Al. She prodded the ragged hole in her thigh tentatively. The human choked and gagged behind her. Fucking clowns always leave a funny taste in my mouth. Al coughed, scouring his bloody face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. Blood spurted between Sweet's fingers while she worked a fuchia tie from a pigtail to tourniquet the gaping bite mark. She seized the cleaver while she could and turned around to find him missing. Fuck Sweet panned around searching for him. She limped back to the church to regroup with Pastor Crumb. In case the others had failed to kill Al in the allott at time, someone would need to be there to smash the egg. Whoever it was would be the next whiteface, and Popsy would not be pleased it beat the alternative. Sweet stopped in her tracks.

58:14 Of course, if the human killed them all, there'd be no one left to laugh for any of their spirits. Sweet gulped at the thought she needed to stay in the hunt. Al groaned and rubbed a rising knot on the back of his head. The she clown had kicked his ass. He needed to fight smarter. If he made it to midnight, they'd all leave him alone. That's what they said. Anyhow, if you can't trust a clown to keep his word, then who can you trust. He crept along the hedge row following the shouted goating of one of his hunters. He slipped through a gap in the wall and realized he was standing in a maze. Of course, I fucking, he whispered. Well spaced led lights shone on the gravel track between the verdant walls on either side of him. They didn't give him much light, but enough to pick out the deep grooves of cowboy boot tracks.

59:14 He stayed low, as much to keep his eye on the trail as to avoid detection. His sneakers gave him some advantage on the shifting rocks. As he moved through the corridors. The cowboy's voice grew louder. Then he heard the jingle jangle of the spurs. Al sank to his knees and crawled to the edge of another opening, peeking around cautiously. The boot heel struck him square in the forehead. Al toppled over, blinking spots from his vision. He got to his hands and knees when a kick met his ribs. Gid ye up, fuckeroo. He watched the rodeo clown thumbs hooked on his belt loops, dancing closer to him. The tie eye boots shuffled through the gravel and then buried into his side again and again. Al tried to escape.

1:00:04 Waldo kept pace with the human kicking him like a soccer ball. As he rolled away from the deranged clown, Al felt the poke of branches in his back. When he reached the wall, another solid kick went into his gut. His microwave dinner splattered on the clown's boots. You dirty, some bitch, Waldo licked his glossy red lips. I'm gonna lie and dance your fucking face into puddin' for that. Waldo's smile faded when he saw the gun barrel jabbed into his crotch. He patted the air and took two steps back. Ever seen a clown juggle without any balls? Al groaned and pressed himself up, Keeping the gun trained on Waldo, he steadied his aim between the clown's eyes.

1:00:46 You only got the one shot, partner, There's only one of you. Al straightened his aim and squeezed the trigger. The flag snapped out of the barrel, unfurling in an orange banner that read bang in bitch purple letters. Al sputtered his lips and shook his head. Waldo slapped his thighs and whooped happily. The clown danced in a circle, booming with laughter at the timeless gag He turned back around and snapped his fingers, holding them at his hips like firing pistols. The miniature flagstaff rammed straight through his eye. Al swung the dummy revolver like a hammer, driving the spike through the back of Waldo's skull. The flag sticking out of his face fluttered lightly in the breeze. Bang, you're dead. The gloved hands burst through the brush and seized Al around the throat. He battered the geometrically patterned yellow silk sleeves. His knuckles clanked off the oversized wristwatch.

1:01:40 The clown's muscles tensed, and Al's face was pulled closer to the protruding branches. Al closed his eyes tightly, feeling the twigs clawing at his lips to get to the soft tissue beneath he who laughs last? Popsy shouted with the great guffaw. Al reached through the bush and grabbed the first thing he could. Popsy's laughter turned to high pitch wailing. Let me go, Al growled. Popsy's white gloved fingers sprang open, and Al released him. The human strolled around the corner, popping his knuckles. Popsy rubbed his sore crotch and growled angrily. All right, Bozo, big dick, it's just you and me, he said. We're about out of time.

1:02:21 Popsy checked his watch. Shit, I really wanted to enjoy killing you, but I can't be late getting back to the church. Spent too many years in the shadow of FeNiS. It's my time to be the white face. You killed your boss, didn't you. Popsy glared at him quizzically. How'd you know? Al shrugged. Everyone wants to kill their boss. Hugh killed FeNiS, a soft, melodic voice said from the shadow between the two lights. He was never going to rest until his egg was smashed. That's why you were in such a rush to kill this human. You two clearly have things to discuss. Al said, holding his hands up defensively. I'll show myself out. You're not going anywhere.

1:03:08 Popsy adjusted his absurdly large tie. Sweet, I understand you're pissed. Sweet hobbled forward, brandishing her cleaver. Oh that's an understatement. If the human lives, Fennis becomes a pirole. Popsy drew his weapons from his pockets. We have to kill him first. It's the code. Sweet looked at Al, then back to Popsy. She kicked the gravel with a frustrated shriek. Two of us have a better chance, Sweet Popsy smiled at her. Al took his shot while the august was distracted. He lunged to tackle him, only for the hammer to come down on the small of his back. Popsy drove a knee into Al's chin. The human wrapped up in Popsy's legs.

1:03:49 The clown shimmy trying to get his ridiculous shoes through Al's grip. Finish him, Sweet Popsy shouted. Sweet gripped the cleaver in both hands and raised it high as she stalked closer. Break the egg, Al yelled. Popsy stopped struggling. Sweet lowered her weapons slightly become the white face. Al said, shuffling his feet under him. Stop him, No, Popsy hissed. He glared at Al, then shot a glance to Sweet. Her tongue pressed against her cheek as she thought it over. If she smashed the egg, she would be the white face, and her and Crumb would send him to the alley for trial. That couldn't happen. There was only one punishment for jesterside. The thought of such horrors sent shivers up Popsy's spine and stealed his nerve. He swung his own cleaver.

1:04:42 Sweet's head popped off her shoulders in a fountain of blood. She stumbled about, tripping over Al and collapsing beside him. The stump gushed. Her body twitched, and Popsy laughed malevolently. Sweetie, you always did give the best head. Al kicked offlling Popsy's legs out from under him. He grabbed Sweet's cleaver and swung at the august, slicing the toe of his shoe off but missing the meat inside. Popsy rolled and kicked the knife from Al's hand before scrambling back to his feet. Al spotted Popsy's mallet and rolled across the ground, scooping it and coming to his knees in a single motion. Popsy brought his cleaver down for a killing blow. Al deflected it and smashed the clown's ankle with the hammer.

1:05:25 Al tried to tackle him again and was successful. The mallet swung wildly. It struck Popsy's bright red nose with a squeak that drowned out the crunch of the bone. Al laughed it was all he could do, laugh and swing, hit and squeak over and over until Popsy's face collapsed and the mallet just made a sticky, thick smack with each repeated blow. Al finally stopped and came to his senses. He checked Popsy's watch and headed back to the church. There was still one clown left to kill, and only four minutes to do it in Al stepped into the clown church and saw Pastor Crumb writhing on the floor.

1:06:16 The top of a white head with flocks of orange hair was buried in his abdomen, munching noisily on the pastor's guts. The pirot lifted its gore streaked face and hissed, you must be the famous Penis, the clown everyone's been telling me about. Fennis stood in a hunkered, crooked mockery of normalcy. He tore at his clothing, revealing the Farcemeister family name across his powerful chest. The clown's bared teeth wiggled in their sockets and fell away as fangs pushed through the gums to take their place. Smoke rose from his pores, steaming his grease paint from his face and taking the flesh with it. Bones showed through in the original pattern of his make up. The clown shuddered and his chest tore open with a great blooming flower that spurted its nectar into steaming puddles on the floor. The pirot lunged forward. Al cocked backed the mallet and took aim at the egg resting on its pedestal. He flung the weapon at it and missed. The hammer sailed harmlessly over it and struck the massive cross behind the podium.

1:07:21 The ornament rocked on its hangars. FeNiS drew closer to Al, running his now clawed hands tearing at the floorboards like a circuits monkey. FeNiS sprang into the air. The clown seemed to fall in slow motion as Al awaited his demise. The cross crashed down on Penis's coffin, knocking it into the pedestal and tipping it over. The vermilion egg hit the floor a moment before FeNiS landed on Al. The egg shattered, splattering the floor with its gooey, unnatural contents. FeNiS exploded. The force knocked Awl to the floor ahead of a tidal wave of viscera and blood that washed over him. He worked to untangle himself from a length of intestine and stood up, dripping with clown goo. I'll probably laugh about this later. He spat out a piece of flesh and shook his head. I hate clowns. Al limped toward the exit. He just wanted to go home, back to his shitty basement apartment with his hot pockets and his porn collection, and he never wanted to see another fucking clown. He threw open the door of the church and groaned. Sweet was ambling toward him with her head in her hands. Blippy dragged his remains across the graveyard lawn. The snapping of the bang flag blowing in the wind drew his attention to Waldo helping Popsy navigate the headstones. Al slammed the door and backed away from it.

1:08:43 The knobs started to turn. It's midnight, He sobbed. I made it. This isn't fair. No, A pair of bloody hands clutched his shoulders and passed her. Crumb leaned close to his ear with a giggle. It's a circus. The door creaked open, and the others shambled in. Crumb bit into Al's cheek, and the others closed in around him. Al saw their fangs and the bones showing where their makeup had been. There was no one left in the shutter, no one to bring their souls to joy anymore. Sweep threw her head at him, and the damn thing latched onto his chest. While Crumb dragged him to the floor. Popsy stood over him. His words came in a gurgled mess.

1:09:27 Left Never Dies Last Stand by Rob Fields. I was looking at Empress Trinidar through my interdimensional wrist comp hell Weaver has the reality sphere in her possession. It would only have taken her moments to breach our security protocols. Even your mentor was unable to hold her in her insane quest. My eyes went wide. You've got to be kidding me, Mom, hell Weaver actually defeated Master Chando, the greatest of the entire km I clan. Mom looked dismal.

1:10:15 I was just as taken aback as you are, daughter. I narrowed my eyes. That means hell Weaver even got by whisper. My sister, Trinidar gave me a look of sadness. Unfortunately, your sister too fell before hell Weaver. She was actually the last to fall before I, but she lives. I bit my lower lip then the five of us are all that's left. The Empress looked grim. Now now you understand why Queen Chai Ai Lan and I have agreed that it was time for the battleground to come together once more. You five are all that remains in the known universe who are capable of stopping Hell Weaver from accomplishing her insane quest. The battleguard must not fall to her. Suddenly, Princess guieney Aari came into my space. My brothers and sisters and I shall pass on valiantly. If we should fail to counter hell Weaver by our lives, we shall never allow her to accomplish her insanity on this vast multiverse.

1:11:23 And you can believe that, Mom, I quickly agreed, Trinidaar continued to show distress. You five are our last hope. Now, daughter, I know your mentor Master Chondiao has heavily instilled the importance of life within you, one of your finest qualities. If we must destroy hell Weaver to save the multiverse, then so be it, I replied with finality. Hell Weaver shall be upon you very soon. Trinidar warned, I know where you're going with this, Mom, but if we have anything to say about it, we will see each other again. I felt an icy, cold tear run down my cheek.

1:12:07 You are biologically my aunt, but you're the only real mother I've ever known and loved. My heart is yours, Trinidar gave me a soft, compassionate look. While you and Whisper were never born to me, you are both my young My heart is yours. She looked hurt. Now, gien Hillari, I know you will stand by my daughter. As you both feel the bonds of sisterhood. You must stand by one another now more than ever. The princess's expression had never faltered. Despair, not empress, Thine daughter is sisterhood unto myself.

1:12:48 You comprehend that my life is to her and hers is to mine. All of the battleguard are of mine. Of this, I am solemn with thee. Then end can munication now and be of readiness. Trinidar commanded. Our communication ended. Yenillai put a gentle hand on my shoulder. When it came to a warrior woman like her, you wouldn't think that emotion was something she would show. This light blue skinned, dark haired warrior princess showed me many qualities that were prevalent in my former teammate and recently lost beloved Halki.

1:13:28 Though you couldn't really see her emotions in her blank white eyes, her face said enough, we shall achieve victory, sister. Though I was still hurting emotionally, I knew that Halki would have wanted me to go on. I was a fighter, just like Yen Gillari. I glanced her way. Believe it. We turned to face the rest of the battleguard. Carly Richmond, one of two Third worlders, glared at us. With Carly, she always looked pissed. Also, she always wore her cheerleading outfit from her high school. As far as she was concerned, she had been a cheerleader since she was a little girl, and that would be how she would go. The fiery red hair and blue eyes always showed off her negative feelings.

1:14:18 Where fucked aren't we? Carly was one girl that Princess Giangillari did not have patience for. When are we of battleguard? Never not fucked third worlder? Bite me, she fired back. While she may not have liked Carly as a person, she did admire the raging inferno that burned hot within her. She was never afraid to speak her mind. Easy, you two, I interjected, save your anger and rage for hell Weaver, not each other. Gianggiari's expression softened. You speak true, sister.

1:14:58 Carly glanced over her shoulder to Max Considine, the other Third worlder for years. These two had known each other. While Carly grew up to be one of the popular cheerleaders at her high school, Max would belong to outcasts who came to be known as geeks, and one who would never back down from a bully, no matter how threatening he or she might have been. Max showed determination that he wouldn't back down from hell Weaver once she would arrive. Max had such a strong will that he was able to harness the very magics that he played in his card games with his friends, but Carly would prove to be the most powerful magic to him. Carly seemed to be distressed as Max approached her. I've always been able to feel you, she snapped. You've told me and told me, but I'll never fucking understand why you would love a bitch like me. You know you could do so much better than me. He wrapped gentle arms around her from behind. She breathed heavily, like she would turn around and strike him down, but she took hold of his arms and held him to her. You are the only one I will ever love, Carly. You know that I will love you until our last days, no matter what. Carly began to cry softly. Max was the only one who could make her do that very thing. Max, you're such a fucking idiot to put up with me,

1:16:29 She paused, What the fuck will you do with two of us? Two of I don't Max's jaw dropped. Oh my, are you? Carly smiled a little and nodded quickly. She took his hand and put it on her bare stomach. I'm carrying our daughter, Max, She choked, almost two months. Max hugged her tight. She returned his affections. We have to beat hell Weaver, Carly. We have to. I noticed that Derek Salinger had been staring off into space for quite a while. How long, I asked him. We don't have much Salinger replied, A matter of short minutes. Really doesn't give us much time to plan. Max said no.

1:17:20 Salinger agreed, we may have to battle hell Weaver with everything we have. We shall never relent until our battle guard has fallen or hell weaver. Princess gian Gillari declared to Salinger. I was probably the only one among us that knew of Princess gian Guillari's feelings towards Salinger. She may not have noticed that I had seen how she gazed at him. I felt she would have pursued him had she not known about he and my sister Whisper. Salinger was the strongest of us by far in terms of strength. In a way, Salinger and Carly were two of a kind. They both possessed some form of rage.

1:18:00 Carly's rage came as a blessing from a goddess, while Salinger's was the result of bonding with an entity known as the nijek Enyo. This entity fed on the evil energies of those he did battle with. In turn, he gained great powers from the ninjek Enyo. When it came to Salinger, I could easily see why Princess Jiangillari would have gladly given herself to him if he would have only but asked her. She understood that he and my sister Whisper were with each other, and never made a move to try and come between them. Jiangiari was the proud daughter of Queen chai A Lan of Garanthan. Her mother had always wanted her to be a proper princess.

1:18:48 She was of great royalty and would inherit her mother's crown one day, but Giangiari had other ideas. She was not opposed to succeeding her mother, But her father was a mighty warrior who had inspired her to strive for more if she truly wanted it. She trained under many of his best warriors and other masters. She was determined to be the best of all of her father's armies. When Yanghiari's father was on his deathbed, Queen chi'a Lan held a contest to determine who would take his place as the commander of her elite guard. Do you know the origin story of Wonder Woman, then you know how this story plays out. The only difference was that Gianghiari didn't wear a mask to hide her identity. While Queen chi'a Lan hadn't approved of her only daughter being in the competition, she could not stop her. It was her mother's own word that all had the right to compete for the coveted commander of the Elite Guard, Rank Empress Trinidar, learned of these warriors and gathered them, placing me among them.

1:19:59 Ta ask was to help preserve peace in our universe, and together the five of us were as one. We became the Battleguard. The five of us stood together. As Salinger pointed in the direction of hell Weaver, we could easily see her riding on the back of one of her winged demons in the cloudless, blood red sky. We could even see the glow of the reality Sphere in her hands. The Reality Sphere was an ancient artifact as old as time that would allow the bearer to shape the very fabric of reality to anything they could conceive.

1:20:40 Hell Weaver had uncovered this once lost sphere and made a plan to transform the entire multiverse into a nightmarish realm such as her own, only on a scale many times larger. Hell Weaver's winged demon had finally landed. Now it would become our sole purpose to keep her from reaching the Infinity Corps, the very epicenter of the multiverse, and dropping the reality Sphere into it, which would create the new reality she had forged inside of the Sphere. We had to stop her or die in our efforts. We waited and watched as hell Weaver took her time on dismounting her demon. She held the Reality Sphere in her arm as she saw the five of us who would be the last line of defense between her and the Infinity Corps. I was the only one among us who had faced hell Weaver each time she had bested me.

1:21:41 While Salinger was the strongest of us physically, I was easily the most powerful. Even my own superpowers were limited against the demonic goddess herself. Is this truly all that remains to face me? Hell Weaver asked to no one in particular. Looking upon her, her appearance was much like that of a sucubus. In fact, all succubi are her daughter's. Hell Weaver was certainly not a sexual creature, though she was every bit as beautiful as one. Her eyes were like two fiery jewels, her horns were like blades that were attached to the sides of her head. In fact, the armor she wore around her torso and her lower region, as well as her shoulders, made her look as though she was a hybrid of demon and machine. Her hands were more clawlike than humanoid. Her claws themselves appeared to glow hot. She also had a long tail with a very sharp point on the end. Even her metallic wings were perfect enough to allow her to fly gracefully and slice anyone unfortunate enough to get too close to her.

1:22:56 I was unfortunate enough to be scratched by hell Weaver when I battled against her. Even though I'm bitterly cold inside, I could still feel the burning of her claws. My skin quickly healed up, but I've never forgotten that heat. Just seeing those eyes made me glad. I was fast enough to be able to avoid her eye beams. Also the fireballs and flames she could shoot from her hands and mouth. Even the end of her tail burned to the touch. I stepped in front of others and said to her, leave the sphere, get back on your demon and leave. You live, you stay and fight, You're as good as dead. Hell Weaver's smile told us we were no match for her. As she walked casually towards us, we readied our powers and weapons. I have bested many times better than the five of you, Hell Weaver said.

1:23:53 Even your beloved fell to me. Blue Girl I choked up, but I forced my emotions back. Now was not the time for this. Hell Weaver smiled again, telling me she knew that she had gotten to me. Halkey put up a good fight against hell Weaver, but she she are you prepared to be swift for battle once more? Sister Princess gian Guillari asked, will your skills again prove grand for victory? She was referring to my training in the quay my arts. In the beginning, Master Sean di Howe treated me as his student. While he had never beaten me or admonished me for making mistakes, he was gentle, yet his lessons were hard. As time went on, I came to hold great respect and admiration for him. Likewise, he came to see me as his daughter and called me so. He had trained many a quay may, but I was his first that was both alien and female.

1:24:59 Had to fight and defeat him in one final confrontation in order to be given a ranking in the clan. When Empress Trinidar had given me to him, she asked him to create a grand master like himself. The only way I could attain this level would be to actually defeat my master in final combat, I defeated him in a hard fought battle to become the first and only female grand master in the Quaimi clan. Master Sean Dao gave me the grand Master's mark, which I first wore on my arm before I attached it to the front of my choker. I faced my battleguard's sister. If I'm to die today, Jian Giri, it'll be as both Quaymi and as a battleguard. We are not fucking dying, Carly hissed with titan fists. You speak true, sister, Gyanghi Ari agreed with grim determination. I'm not planning on it. I further agreed, and then my blue hair shimmered and glistened as a third world fiber optic Noel tree would. Our final battle was about to begin. Stand fast, Salinger yelled.

1:26:12 Hell Weaver flew right at us, face me. Suddenly, Salinger stepped up and threw two powerful fists at hell Weaver. The enemy was soon on her knees, but she would not fall. She lifted herself up, only to feel Salinger's rage fueled fists once more. I had never been on the receiving end of his fists thanks to my great speed, and I knew I never wished to be Princess Gianguyri stepped up and slammed one end of her laser bow into hell Weaver's face, into her stomach, her face again, then she spun around and caught her in the throat. Salinger continued to punish hell Weaver so that she ended up on her knees again, but she still would not fall.

1:26:59 Hell Weaver would quickly on her feet again. She looked at us as if asking if that was all we had. I utilized my super speed and stepped in to deliver some hard fists and kicks. Utilizing my fighting skills, I sent Hell Weaver flying backward, but again she remained on her feet. Max stepped forward. In his left hand, he held some cards with different magic spells. With his right, he unleashed his power. I quickly backed up and then ascended to the air to keep myself at a safe distance. Four different colored energies crackled around Hell Weaver. The enemy was again to her knees as Max's magic's intensified. While Max's magic was very powerful, I wasn't sure how effective it would be against Hell Weaver. The magics crackled and bathed hell Weaver in their powerful energies. Max's eyes glowed brightly as he fueled the magics with his powerful will.

1:27:56 It didn't take long for hell Weaver to slowly move and return to her feet. Clearly Max's projections were having little effect on her. I quickly assisted Max by firing ice powers from both my hands and eyes. Hell Weaver slowly moved against our powers. Then I saw Max's beautiful, deadly better half step up. She had never been more enraged in her entire life. Her rage took form as dark energies crackled around her. Her eyes turned to a deadly, deep shade of red, similar to hell Weaver's. Suddenly, her arms shot out and her hands released intense bolts of pure rage. Hell Weaver found herself on her knees again.

1:28:41 Princess gian Gilli and Salinger could only stand by since they had no projection powers. Max suddenly stopped throwing magic. He was exhausted and would need minutes for his energies to peak before unleashing his magics again. I was focusing myself for another go at Hell Weaver once the others were out of the way, leave her to me. Carly yelled, She's mine. I hovered and watched. I also ceased my powers. Carly laughed crazily. As her rage increased. We could see smoke rising from hell Weaver, to the point that she actually caught on fire. Die came Carly's blood curdling, insane scream.

1:29:26 I never knew that a third worlder, let alone one with the rage of a goddess, could find so much hatred inside of her. Was this rage all pent up over time? Or was she just a being of pure rage? Just fucking die? Carly screamed at the top of her lungs. In spite of how much hell Weaver burned, she absolutely would not stay down. She only sank to her knees and kept getting back to her feet. This only made Carly madder and madder. We could actually hear the humming coming from the energies that crackled from her. Her energies were now completely white, as in white hot. Carly was so pissed off now that I wasn't sure if any of us could calm her down. But hell Weaver refused to stay down. She refused to die. Hell Weaver walked against Carly's power, she would not be knocked to her knees again. Salinger must have known, too, because he walked up behind Carly and wrapped his arms around her midsection.

1:30:32 Carly now screamed to the point where dark clouds suddenly formed over us. Then white lightning shot down at hell Weaver, and then I understood Salinger was channeling the energies from the Netch Genyo entity directly into Carly. Carly laughed maniacally as her rage grew even hotter still, but hell Weaver still would not go down. She continued to push against their comind energies. I knew she would eventually reach Carly and kill her as well as her unborn child if something wasn't done. I had to act immediately and hoped that my icy powers would be enough to protect me against Carly's I dropped to the ground and ran toward hell Weaver. From there, I began releasing a barrage of super speed punches. Never, I shouted, you will never reach the Infinity Core, and then hell Weaver fought back. She raised her hand and began blocking Carly's rage. She put the reality sphere down so she could grab hold of me.

1:31:38 Just like that. With one quick movement, she flung me away just as the fire on her body went out. She pushed forward until the lightning began to be redirected back at Carly. Salinger quickly let her go and tossed her out of the way. I ran and caught Carly before she hit the ground. Salinger stood there and took the return lightning. All it did was crackle around him for a few moments, then he fell to his knees. Hell Weaver reached him and swiped her claws quickly to send his head flying from his shoulders. No, I screamed, but there was nothing I could have done. As fast as I was, I couldn't save both Carly and Salinger.

1:32:27 Salinger couldn't take the feedback from Carly's rage energy, and it weakened him enough for hell Weaver to end him. The remaining four of us attacked her with everything we had. Again, the demonic goddess refused to fall. Max took a great risk by placing his hands on hell Weaver to work a binding spell. She immediately snatched him to her and kissed him full on the mouth. Suddenly, Max exploded, The force sent Carly gian Gillari and I flying back Max. Oh goodness now, Carly shrieked. Giangillari and I also gasped as we saw hell Weaver holding the charred skeleton of Max before throwing it aside. Hell Weaver moved and quickly leaped at Gyangiari to land directly in front of her.

1:33:23 Before she could raise her laser bow to counter, hell Weaver snatched her by her hair, turned her around, and sank her claws into her lower back. Gianghiari screamed only briefly as hell Weaver grabbed her very spinal cord and raised her over her head, blood starting to pour down onto her. With her free hand, hell Weaver sank her claws into the back of Yangillari's neck, and then, with a minute display of her strength, Giangillari in half at the waist. Her blood soaked hell Weaver instant before she tossed the two halves of the body aside. Hell Weaver smiled at Carly and I. Now both gian Gire and Max's blood soaking her, and you two still dare to stand against me, fools, Then I shall finish this. Carly and I unleashed our powers on Hell Weaver again. When she took to the air, I also ascended. Then hell Weaver dove and flew right at Carly. I quickly dropped to the ground since I couldn't fly at super speed.

1:34:36 I ran to Carly and took the wing attack that was meant for her. I shrieked as I felt hell Weaver's wing a slice burning me at my side. My icy blue blood began to seep out slowly. My blood was fast in itself and began to heal immediately. I would be fully restored in a matter of seconds. Unfortunately, I could not recover in time to prevent hell Weaver from finally grabbing Carly. I shall show you what true power is, youngling. Hell Weaver fired her eyebeams directly into Carly's eyes to burn them out. Then she placed a finger into each eyehole and discharged such enormous power into Carly's body that she screamed in intense pain until her body finally exploded in the same way that Max's had moments before. Both Carly and her unborn child died as the result of hell Weaver's merciless attack. Hell Weaver had decimated nearly all of us single handedly, She turned to me.

1:35:41 Now this is your last stand, blue girl. Surrender yourself to me, and I shall spare your life and allow you to rule at my side. Hell Weaver had offered me a place by her side time and time again during many of our battles. Never I screamed. I focused all the power at my command and unloaded it against hell Weaver. I watched as her body began to freeze up fast, but it just wasn't enough. Hell Weaver still refused to fall. Powerful as I was, I just wasn't powerful enough. And then I saw the reality sphere she held.

1:36:23 At that moment, I now knew how to stop hell Weaver. I turned my power away from her and shifted my eye beams to the artifact. What do you possibly hope to accomplish? Hell Weaver demanded. I focused with all my inner strength to channel my icy beams into a single laser, giving it enough intensity and that concentrated, narrow beam to actually crack the reality sphere and make it dangerously unstable, and then I fell. Hell Weaver was angered. Now you have breached the reality sphere. This is not possible, but she still refused to give up, having come this far and so close she still held the damaged reality sphere.

1:37:11 Seeing that I was the only thing standing between her and the Infinity Corps, she growled in grim determination and began a running charge directly towards me. Some of my strength returned instantly, and I stood again. All that was between our reality and whatever hellish reality she planned was me. I could never allow that to happen, my life for the Multiverse. I channeled my inner piece one last time, the way Master Chon Diao had taught me. It was down to this final attack. As hell Weaver reached me, I fired one last concentrated icy laser beam from my eyes and directly into the reality sphere. My beam reached the very core, causing a mass of explosion. Both of us were in the heart of it. Hell Weaver screamed as her armor and flesh flew away from her body.

1:38:08 That was all I saw as I was being lifted off my feet and hurling helplessly into the Infinity Core. I splashed into its cosmic waters and felt myself being bathed and the energies created from whatever was in the reality sphere and the waters of the Infinity well combined. If this was finally my end. Then I would die, knowing hell Weaver had failed in creating her new multiverse and enslaving its people. The battle Guard had defeated hell Weaver. I closed my eyes and embraced my death, knowing we had given our very lives to save the Multiverse. I opened my eyes and discovered that the scenery had completely checked.

1:39:01 I was no longer at the Infinity Core or submerged within its dark waters. I was now lying on my side. I stood to my feet and looked around my new environment. Was I still within the Infinity Core. I decided to consult my wrist comp and see where I was exactly, and I found that it had performed a self diagnostic. There was a major issue that needed my immediate attention. I looked at the readout and saw that the peratonium circuit had become damaged beyond repair. I felt my icy heart growing heavy. Now. The peratonium circuit was what allowed me to easily travel throughout the multiverse and its infinite dimensions.

1:39:48 It was the link to the master computer back at Battlestar Hall in Universe zero. After reading the rest of the diagnostic information, the rest of the wrist Comp's vast function were still available to me. However, without the peritonium chip, I was both lost and marooned on this new world and whatever reality this was. I could fly upward and into space, and could even survive in its vast vacuum, but I'd quickly become even more lost if I couldn't find any other worlds. I sighed in despair and knew that I would have to become familiar with this world that I must now call home, at least for the time being. From there, I started walking. My costume was damaged in the battle against hell Weaver. This was something the wrist comp could easily remedy. After initiating a few commands, it reconfigured my costume. Instead of repairing and restoring it to its original form, it was changed. Instead of a full body suit, I was now wearing an athletic top and a matching bottom, complete with a pair of running shoes.

1:40:57 My frigid white skin was mostly exposed, now, probably to configure with the heat and humidity I now sensed. With my new costume complete, I soon reached a dirt road. I turned and started running at super speed. Shortly I came to an intersection when I saw the life forms approaching, I stopped to examine them. It was a male female couple, possibly Third worlders, sitting atop what appeared to be a chariot. In front of the chariot were two beasts with long faces, lengthy bodies, a tail, and four legs. I was just as surprised to see the couple as they were to see me. When the male spoke, I found that I couldn't understand him. Unfortunately, with the peritonium circuit damaged, I couldn't use the wrist comp to translate anything into Anglish or any of the other languages I was fluent in.

1:41:52 I tried speaking to them, but they couldn't understand me. No matter, I only needed to listen to them speak or gaze upon their language for a short period of time before I would become fluent. When the couple saw that I wasn't malevolent, they allowed me to board their chariot and ride with them. The beasts pulled us until we came to the boundary of their village. By then I was able to speak what I came to know as English, which I learned was an alternate form of Anglish from Third world of Universe zero. I also learned the couple were not husband and wife, but brother and sister. Their names were Lucius and Norma Redmont. The year was eighteen twenty two, and the name of the village we were crossing into was called Strickfield, in the region of Ohio in the continent of North America. My new world of Earth would take some getting used to. I was already enjoying the vibrant colors, including the blue sky and the yellow sun. However, like the many other worlds I've encountered, it seemed and this Strickfield village had its share of foul things that would prey upon humans living here. Even though I was lost somewhere in the multiverse, now I was still a superhero. My mission would never change. However, I would have to be able to blend in among the humans, for I was the only one among them with icy white flesh and long, shimmering blue hair. For now,

1:43:26 the Red Moonts have welcomed me into their household. From there, I would learn trades to make myself useful around their farm and village. So it seems the village of Strickfield is my new home, at least for the present and unforseeable future. Jimmy Flavor's Last Days by David O'Hanlon. Jimmy Flavor stood in the shower, letting the water sculd his back. He took a drag off the cigarette and watched the smoke disappear into the steam the same way the water hid the tears. Through the gap in the plastic shower curtain, he could barely see the revolver sitting on the chipped countertop through the man made fog. The water pressure was shit in the sleazy motel, but it got hot, hot enough to scour away the last three days. Jimmy tried to ignore the knuckles rapping against the flimsy motel door.

1:44:30 The television was blaring with an old war movie. The knocking turned to pounding. Jimmy listened to the rattle of the machine gun fire through the TV's busted speakers. He leaned his head against the wall and took another long pull off the smoke before dropping it into the blood tinged water. Pulling around his feet, it twisted and danced its way to the drain behind him. The boot hit the door and he heard the frame shatter. His fifty dollars deposit wasn't going to cover the damages. He bunched the shower curtain in his fist and stared at that damn gun. Flavio Jimenez wouldn't have reached for it, but Flavio was a charcoal briquette in the trunk of a firebombed car sitting in an abandoned lot. Jimmy Flavor felt the first cheap plastic ring snap off the curtain rod as he made his decision. The more lives a man lives, the more deaths he dies. Three days ago, Flavio Jimenez tightened the tiny screws into place, one after the other in the cramped cell phone repair kiosk located around the corner from the mall's food court. He shifted uncomfortably on the cracked vinyl stool as the aroma of Hamburger Hamlet's kitchen wafted it around him like a malicious spirit, leaving in its wake a slime trail of grease that Flavio could feel oozing through the pores of his skin. He powered on the tablet, unlocked the screen, and turned it off again before sliding it into the envelope with the customer's contact information on it and placing it in the

1:46:00 service completed drawer beneath the counter. Dweebspace nine was the premier cell phone and tablet repair service provider for Eastern Oklahoma. At least that's what the sign said. Flavio opened another oversized plastic bag and removed the archaic Nokia eighty two to ten. The customers were celebrating their twenty year anniversary and wanted to recover their first text messages. He pressed the power button for no result, and of course, there was no charger included. He swiveled on the stool and pulled open the drawer for antique accessories. The cords were organized in a tangled ball wrapped in duct tape inside of a grocery sack. Flavio sighed and dropped the bag on the counter. It would be worth noting that he hated his job if he liked any facet of his life at all. He did not. Flavio didn't live so much as he existed in school. His grades stayed just high enough to graduate, and he didn't participate in any curriculars.

1:47:01 Since no one was offering an attendance scholarship. He went to work at dueb Space nine, and continued to stay there for the next seven years. He lived with his mother and sister and helped with the cleaning because he couldn't cook anything that didn't come with instructions on the box. His father was the risk taker and they lived comfortably on the life insurance. As a result, it taught Flavio at an early age not to do more than absolutely necessary. Mediocrity was a lifestyle he was born to with a slight build and average face, which he kept hidden behind a shaggy mop of black hair and perpetual five o'clock shadow. Flavio hated his hair because it reminded him of how stupid his name was. He was not yellow haired, not that anyone in Itawa, Oklahoma, knew what it meant. Flavia was the butt of his own inside joke. It was a name that led everyone to believe he spoke Spanish, which caused him both irritation and shame since he did not.

1:47:59 The worst part, however, was his friend c K. Since their first meeting in sixth grade, K insisted that Flavio must be Spanish for yo flavor, Ck shouted as he jogged to the Kiosk. No matter how many times he said it, or how many Spanish dictionaries he was given. Chandler k Kozinski insisted that Flavio meant flavor, and he refused to call him anything else. Aren't you supposed to be at work? Flavio asked, Jobs are for people who don't like making money. K waived at the DS nine sign case and point you got fired again. Flavio prodded the Nokia's charging port with one unidentified cord after another.

1:48:43 Just find something that doesn't suck and stick with it, or K leaned on the counter and glanced around before continuing, We could do one night's work and make enough money to buy this Kiosk and make a living off dumbass high school kids or guys with absolutely no fury momentum like yourself. That's the worst motivational speech ever. Ha, got it? Flavio set about freeing the correct chord from the tangle. What is this one night's work? I told my priest about my side gig at the confession, c K said, stealing copper isn't a side gig. It's a felony. But please continue, so is stealing nudes off those phones. But I know you got a collection. It's a service fee for all the dick pics I have to see. Flavio looked up from his work with a sour expression. Did you know people are putting Domino pieces in their dicks? Now?

1:49:37 Why is that a thing? C K cocked his head and scowled. I never realized how happy I was not knowing a thing until I learned that was a thing I didn't know. Can I get back to the fucking point, flavor? Flavio rolled his hand in an exaggerated call for Ck to continue. C K looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear him. So Father Roland came to me the other day and said someone robbed the church and he wants to hire a couple of guys to go get it back. He asked if I knew any hardcore stick up men, and I told him I had the perfect guy, a real fucking professional thief.

1:50:17 Se K snapped his fingers and pointed a finger gun right between Flavio's eyes. You told your priest that I was a thief. Flavio pinched the bridge of his nose inside kind of s K scratched at his platinum goateee. I told him about a guy named Jimmy Flavor. I said he was this hot shot bank robber from Texas. Look, it's an easy job, but Roland won't hire me unless I bring in someone with experience. You want me to lie to a priest, so will hire us to steal some shit. That's the most catholic thing you've ever said, c K six figures, Flavor, that's what he's offering. Flavio's face ruined. Any feigned disinterest, get cleaned up. C K slapped some folded twenties on the counter. Cut your hair, shave that depression off your face, put on your club clothes, and meet me at the church in the morning. This is the kind of opportunity that could change your life.

1:51:14 Bro One night of taking a fucking chance for a change, and then you can go back to stagnating in normalcy. Jimmy Flavor. Huh. Flavio tried not to smile as he said it. That was a much better name than Flavio Jimenez. His gut twisted with a feeling he didn't recognize at first. Then it hit him. He was excited. What time Flavio slept in a succession of short naps, A victim at the mercy of his own excitement and anxiety. He was already up and looking at the stranger in the mirror when the alarm went off behind him. His shaggy mane was replaced with a short, cropped fade, and the scruff on his face was nothing but a tidy soul patch below his lip. He smoothed the collar of his red flame adorned overshirt and shut off the alarm before heading outside.

1:52:09 Flavio's car was the only extraordinary thing about him. The nineteen fifty three bel air his grandfather bought new and his father restored before his death was Flavio's only love. He cruised across town, ringing the steering wheel the entire drive. When he pulled up to the curb outside of Saint Anthony of Thebes Catholic Church c K was already waiting. He sat on the hood of his Kia Optima and talked to an elderly priest. Flavio watched them in the mirror for a moment, looked at himself and took a deep breath. You're not Flavio Himenez anymore. You're a hardcore animal. Act like it. He got out of the car, and strolled over to the other men with a false confidence, he hoped hid the shaking of his knees. He nodded to see K. This is the guy I was telling you about. See K slid off the chipped, dented hood, Meet Jimmy Flavor. Flavio eyed the priest suspiciously. You don't look like a criminal, mastermind. I'm father Roland. The priest didn't offer his hand, which was busy manipulating the beads of a rosary. What I'm hiring you for is hardly criminal.

1:53:22 You'll be acting with the full blessing of the Vatican. Flavio looked to c K, then back to the priest and scoffed. Don't dip shit and sugar and call it a cookie, Padre. You asked for a thief because you want thievery. Things that don't belong to you now are going to by the morning. That's what you need. Now, how about you cut the mission from godline and get to the part where you tell me what I need to know to make that happen. S K's eyes were wide with disbelief, and Flavio hoped his didn't match. He wasn't brash or disrespectful, but apparently Jimmy Flavor was even his voice sounded different. It was deeper, with an edge that made Flavia uncomfortable. The priest nodded and smacked his lips. Well, I was told you were the real deal, so I shouldn't be taken aback by such pointed speech. Roland said the Vatican was in possession of certain artifacts linked to a Hittite cult worshipers of an unsavory deity of disease called Jari. They entrusted the collection with an explorer in the sixteenth century who was instructed to bury them far within the New World. Jimmy Flavor shrugged, You don't need a stick up man for grave robbery. Some of the artifacts have been found. Roland said the cult was revived at the beginning of the twentieth century, as seen with the arrival of the Spanish flu. The Church has been trying to suppress these men and their machinations for some time.

1:54:53 We recovered an idol in nineteen twenty one and a grimoire, a spell book in thirty three. Both items were interared in the catacombs. Beneath your feet. Jimmy Flavor looked at the sidewalk, then back up at the Venerable Cathedral. You know who jacked you. A business man named Earl Price is high cleric of the Jai cult. Roland flicked his wrist, wrapping the rosary around his fist in a deft movement. They're rolling the infernal dice of damnation in a gamble to seize power beyond earthly comprehension. COVID, wildfires, rising hatefulness. They're all signs of the Colt's meddling. Soon they'll decipher more of the Grimoire. We need it back before that happens.

1:55:36 Sounds like a fucking D and D campaign. Jimmy turned to c K. This is what you're wasting my time for. You want me to steal a book from some rich cocksucker for the absent minded priest over here. The fuck was you thinking? The Vatican is paying a twenty percent finder's fee. Roland shrugged with disinterest. The book alone would be worth one hundred thousand dollars for you. Retrieve it and the idol, and you could triple that number. However, the Grimoire is the priority. They're not fighters, mister Flavor. This city is overrun with gangbangers that would jump at the opportunity. I would prefer a professional get back our belongings cleanly. That does not mean I won't send an army of amateurs to butcher them all. Take it or leave it. The deal is on the table for another thirty seconds. He took it. The day passed much differently.

1:56:33 Jimmy Flavor didn't want to let go, and Flavio found himself along for the ride. He spent money in anticipation of the small fortune coming his way, investing in a new outfit and an eight ball of cocaine before hitting the biggest club in the city just after dark. Flavio could count the amount of times he got high on one hand, but Jimmy Flavor was railing coke like an eighty stockbroker. By the time his savings were gone. He was popular enough to drink for free until he found other pursuits more worth his time. At three a m. His cell phone lit up with a text message from c K telling him it was time to meet. He pushed away the hand on his thigh to a dissatisfied groan from the woman beside him. Jimmy got dressed quickly and stepped into the bathroom. The other barfly was still in the shower, and he wiped the steam away to check his appearance in the mirror. Flavio hadn't been with two women in the last year, but Jimmy took two back to the hotel at a time with ease. Jimmy Flavor was supposed to be a figment of his imagination, a character to play for a night, but he was more than that. Flavio stared deep into the dilated pupils of Jimmy Flavor and saw himself cowering inside. The thief lived life so fully that he was birthing himself into the void of Flavio's empty husk. Maybe he had been the imaginary one all along. Jimmy's eyes flicked to the blurred naked form through the trans loocent shower curtain. There was no way he could ever go back to the

1:58:04 droning zombie he'd always been. He was Jimmy Flavor. See k screamed as he plummeted from the top of the twelve foot concrete wall that surrounded Earl Price's estate. Jimmy turned and went back for his friend. The barking of the Doberman's was full of hate and frustration as they tried clawing their way up the wall in pursuit of the thieves. Shouting coltists drew nearer, followed by the mechanical groaning of the gate's motor. The barking changed directions as they bolted to the opening portal. Jimmy dragged s K to his feet, which produced another scream. He looked down and grimaced at the angle of se K's shin. The protruding bone tented the pant leg. Quit being a pussy, It's just a sprain. Jimmy glanced over his shoulder to the moving outline of the gate. We have to go before the dogs get out too late. The zoo shambled along another twenty feet before Jimmy let go. See K landed in the wet grass, face first and stared up at his friend in shock. The dogs were closing the distance faster than they could hobble. See K would get some stitches, but Father Roland promised the Vatican would keep them out of prison. Jimmy mumbled an apology and dashed away before the first dog dug into see K's broken leg.

1:59:23 The others circled their prey and pinned him in place, foregoing further pursuit of Jimmy. He stopped running at the end of the drive and heaved breathlessly in awkward silence. No one was chasing him. The robbery went smooth for a moment. A single shot into the ceiling sent twenty odd Coultists cowering. Then things got weird. The lights flickered, the room got cold. Then there were the words and the darkness. The wallpaper peeled away in strips with whispers from within. Jimmy grabbed the book and pistol whipped the guy in the fanciest robes before they bolted through the front door. The dogs were on them in an instant, and those damnable words followed them across the yard like buzzing insects. In the glaring floodlights, Jimmy could see robed silhouettes hoisting c K from the ground. Then came the screams.

2:00:16 It was a demented shadow puppet theater. From his vantage point, as he saw the faceless shapes stringing si K's intestines from his writhing figure, lightning crackled overhead and c K went quiet. Jimmy watched the body fall limp and the figures turn his way. More whispers came from all around him. He didn't understand the language, but he knew the meaning. He knew it was time to start running again. Jimmy climbed through the bedroom window and shook off the rain. C K had the idol when he fell, but Jimmy still had the grimoire. He tossed the book on Flavio's bed and stripped off his wet clothes. He heard his mother, always an early riser, banging around in the kitchen. The red numerals on the alarm clock showed him a future that wouldn't happen. The shrieking buzz of the alarm and the droll routine of getting ready to stagnate in the dweeb space nine kiosk never again. He was a professional thief now. Jimmy dressed quickly. He would sleep. When he got to the church and collected his payment from Roland.

2:01:25 A glass shattered down the hall and Jimmy froze in place. His revolver was sitting on the bed next to the book. He stared at it, trying to will it across the room into his hand. His mother moved like a ballet dancer in the kitchen. He'd never seen her drop anything. His gut tightened, and he tiptoed to the weapon, slipping it into his waistband and dropping the book into an old backpack that he slung across his torso. The screaming started, and he found himself in wet pants once again. Flavia wasn't gone completely, it turned out. His bedroom door flew open and crashing against the wall. Mari's face was streaked with tears. His sister's mouth opened to cry out when the visceral tentacle twisted around her neck, pulling her to the floor. Jimmy watched as the mound of slithering entrails converged on her body, smearing bile and blood across her satin pajamas. The puckered orifice of the disembodied stomach slid across her cheek like a snail, leaving a sizzling trail of digestive juices burning through the flesh. The small intestines gyrated across the carpet, securing Mari in their embrace. The organ positioned itself over her and forced its contents into her mouth. With a wet squeal, Jimmy jumped through the window in a crash that did little to cover his sister's agonized screams. He rolled through the mud and sprinted down the sidewalk to his car. The engine rumbled and the tires fought for traction as he pressed the accelerator all the way down. Flavio didn't believe in anything he couldn't see, but he still wouldn't have believed what Jimmy

2:02:56 had seen. Those sick bastards gutted his friend and somehow animated his guts into a grotesque hound to track him. Everything the priest said was true. The cult of Jari was real. The things they could do were real, and if the magic was real, then so was their depraved god. That meant the world was up shit creak. If he let them have the book, they already killed everyone Flavio cared about. Soon they'd find him, and he'd be just as dead. He rubbed the tears away from his cheeks. Jimmy Flavor wouldn't be so easily killed. He would get the book to Roland, collect his money, and disappear. He still had five shots in the revolver and only an hour until dawn. He whipped the car around a corner and slid across the lanes before straightening it out. Jimmy took a deep breath and eased off the pedal. In his rear view, all he saw was wet asphalt reflecting the street lights. The monster wasn't back there, and he let the breath out softly. Then he saw something else.

2:04:00 The man lumbered down the sidewalk in soggy clothes, his wet, shaggy hair clung to his face. Jimmy pulled up to the curb and let the headlights fall on him. They were about the same size. Jimmy stepped out of the car with the pistol hidden behind the open door. The man's clothes were raggedy and dirty, and a soggy cardboard sign was folded in the outside pocket of his backpack. You need a lift, Jimmy called out through the downpour. The man turned and jogged over to him. Jimmy's thumb cocked back the hammer when he realized they were about the same age too. The man rested his hands on his hips and smiled a toothy grin. Thank you. I thought I'd catch my death out here. He said you have.

2:04:45 Jimmy raised the gun and fired a single shot into the man's front teeth. Jimmy loaded the body into the trunk and drove to the abandoned kmart, where he worked on removing the rest of the teeth. He emptied a gas can over the body and tossed a hastily made malta cocktail at his beloved car. The last piece of Flavio ignited with the shattering of a beer bottle. A fireball tore through the sky as the fuel tank exploded, and the sirens of rushing fire trucks became the soundtrack for Jimmy's long walk to the church ahead of him. The sun was rising on a new day. Saint Anthony's was empty and unlocked. Jimmy drew his weapon and called out for Father Roland. The priest didn't answer. Jimmy continued his search, eventually coming to the open door of the rectory on the second floor. The smell burned his nostrils, and he held his shirt tight over his face to combat the fumes, which grew stronger As he explored deeper into the apartment and turned into the bedroom, a figure stretched across the soiled bedding above the white priest's collar.

2:05:46 Strips of smoking flesh clung to his exposed skull. He jerked the shirt away and vomited across the foot of the bed. He scanned the room for the creature and found a smoldering slime trail lingering across a windowsill and down the wall outside. Jimmy calmed himself and went back to the bed. A fanny pack sat on the night stand with tightly rolled cash inside. Jimmy stuffed it into his backpack with the grimoire. His fingers caressed the ancient leather tomb. He pulled the book out and flipped through the mildewed pages. The TV chimed an announcement of breaking news. The police were looking for twenty five year old Flavio Jimenez in connection with the murders of his mother and sister.

2:06:27 Jimenez was suspected of strangling the women and trying to dissolve their bodies in acid. Tears welled up in Jimmy's eyes. He sniffled and cleared his aching throat. The cops would find his car soon and call off the search. He had to disappear before they realized it wasn't his body in the ruins. He slammed the book closed and put it in his bag. The Vatican still wanted it and didn't know he'd already been paid. Vatican City was its own country, with no extradition treaties. He could hide out there until he got fake papers and then slip into some Indian village with enough money to never have to work again. He made his way out of the church. The clouds were parting and the rain was just a light drizzle shimmering in the sunlight. Things were going to be okay. He just needed to lay low and contact the diocese. Jimmy enjoyed the moment of calm. The Colt of Jai must have taken the bait and assumed he was dead. That's why the intestinal creature wasn't waiting for him.

2:07:27 He was free and clear until the eyded the body in the bell air. That gave him a day or two. Jimmy smiled, it would all be over with a phone call. The black chrysler eased to the curb. Jimmy's face fell. He recognized Earl Price behind the steering wheel. The passenger door opened and another man stepped out. Jimmy drew the revolver and put two in the man's chest before he could finish, telling him they just wanted to talk. Then he ran. He ran until his lungs hurt, until he thought his legs would break away and continue without him. The colt would be on his trail again. He was running out of time and bullets, and he pushed himself faster down the sidewalks and alleys, never looking over his shoulder to see who was chasing him. He just ran.

2:08:14 The phone call went well. The bishop said he would send someone to collect him and the book. Everything was falling into place until the five o'clock news showed the world the face of spree killer Flavio Jimenez. Footage from a traffic camera showed him gunning down Price's goon in high definition. They were also blaming him for Roland's murder. The Ottawa acid Killer was suspected to be at large, armed and dangerous, and completely fucked. Jimmy dumped the cartridges out of the revolver and tossed the spent casings into the waistbind one after the other, flinching as they clinked off the metal side. He pushed the two remaining bullets into the cylinder and snapped it shut. Two bullets and maybe twenty minutes to go. He changed the channel to some war movie before heading to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and peeled away his clothes. The coltists, the police, and the Vatican were all coming to get him.

2:09:12 There was nothing left to do but wait and see who got there first. He tapped a cigarette from the pack and lit it before stepping into the shower. He took a long pull and let the water scald his back. The movie was blaring in the other room, but he could hear the knocking over it. It was urgent, frenzied pounding. Someone was shouting. Jimmy looked through the gap at the revolver sitting on the counter. He spat the cigarette into the water, watching it twist as it drifted away behind him. There was blood in the water, but he didn't remember being injured. The door shattered with a brutal kick. Jimmy bunched the shower curtain in his fist. It definitely wasn't the church. He ripped the curtain down and stepped out, retrieving his pistol and aiming it at the back of the door. He could hear the men yelling more clearly, state police. He cocked the revolver. Jimmy Flavor would not be taken alive. The cops would lock the book away safely.

2:10:11 The Vatican could collect it from them after the dust settled. At least, then the cult of Jaari would never have it. A smell stung his nose, and he thought about the blood in the shower. He turned his head upward slowly. Through the steam. He could see the dripping, pink mass swarming across the ceiling. The stomach shifted through the writhing intestines overhead, The sphincter puckered and blew in acidic kiss that splattered Jimmy's bare feet. The bathroom door burst inward. Jimmy's fingers tightened on the trigger while the intestines tightened on his throat. He heard two shots. He thought they might have been his, until he felt the damp tile press against his cheek. He stared at the thing slithering across the ceiling. His head lulled over A chunk of brain matter oozed down the side of the bathtub. He was sure it was supposed to hurt, but he didn't feel anything anymore. The room got dimmer, the voices got quieter, and Jimmy Flavor died just as quickly as he had lived the end. All right, my spookies, that was a fine mess of broken timelines, dead clowns, cosmic warfare, and the sword of occult trouble that never stays politely locked inside the book it came from. That's what I love

2:11:44 about a collection of stories like this. One reminds you that reality is fragile. Another says death still has a sense of humor, while another throws the whole multiverse on the chopping block, and the last one proves that even when a man thinks he's finally getting his big break, the dark may already have his name written down not in pencil either. Thanks for wandering out into the weird with me tonight, and while your timeline is still mostly intact, make sure you're subscribed on your favorite podcast app, because there's always a brand new scary tale every single Wednesday right here on Weekly Spooky. Until next time, be careful what songs you turn up too loud, what books you open, and what laughs you hear after midnight? Good luck