Post by thekillingjoke on Feb 10, 2012 17:30:01 GMT -5
Batman #8
By Cornelius Spunkwater
----
Steel flashes from Monk’s side and he scowls with hair flying back and he resets his brim. Wayne looks him in the eye and they cross cold ground bare of grass. Speed picks up and a hollow stare follows.
Inside the church the congregation sits listening to Blackfire’s sermon this night while they hold blades and lust hard for blood run. Blackfire says: Tonight we consume for our might sinful flesh that we may vindicate our world in the eyes of God. Unrepentent they may be, but through our faith in this hour we cleanse their souls and become one being sent from the Lord. Sharpen your blades, men of God. This is a righteous battle we take on.
Doors burst and a frenzy of death begins. Shots explode through men’s heads with smoke and blood splattered glory that makes the lust build. Monk grins while men scream for mercy never given and bodies thud around them. A hatchet strikes Wayne in the chest and he howls and drops his weapon to rip away the cultist’s throat. Two guns and no rest when emptied. A dozen men die and blood drips from Wayne’s lips. The rest run but Monk catches one and tears into the carotid bliss where fresh blood fulfills him. Wayne takes a wretch and follows suit. Together they feed but miss the ultimate goal: Blackfire.
The men are gone. They take their guns and reload for what’s to come.
Blackfire mounts his horse and rides toward the town. His followers scatter on foot and cry help but it comes not. Bullets hit men around and Monk takes his mount and Wayne to enter hell.
Faster now and Monk aims but misses the shot and Blackfire peers back. Monk picks up some speed while Wayne readies himself for the chance he’s got and leaps to Blackfire’s horse. Wayne shouts: You need to stop this. It’s over
But Blackfire throws elbows back and Wayne staggers. Blackfire says: I know what you are, vampire.
He throws another blow and says: I’ll send you to hell, that you know your own kind.
Monk shoots close but misses again. Blackfire knows Wayne aside and looks back to grin. Monk pulls beside Blackfire and the two race in the prarie darkness. Monk reaches to grab but he pulls a six-shooter against his face point blank and fires. Half Monk’s face falls slabbed over dirt and rocks. Momentum throws him back and he hits the ground spilling blood while his horse trots aimlessly. Blackfire rides toward distance black until he’s gone.
Wayne walks a steady course toward Monk and pulls him up and asks: You all right?
I’m missin half my fuckin face but I reckon I’ll be fine.
Let’s get us some blood and then call the reaper to claim that son of a bitch.
Sun’s bout to come up in a couple hours, Monk says.
Guess we’d better move.
Vampires. Who’d’ve thunk.
Blackfire rides through the town center and kicks open Gordon’s door. Inside he lay deathly pale in bed and his wife tends bandages bloody thick. She faces Blackfire and screams while the wind wail blows from the door. Their son wakes and peers in the room. Blackfire sees the child and shoots her in the shoulder and savors the child’s fear before he steals him in one arm like a fool and backs into a corner of the boy’s room.
He breathes heavily and sweaty hair hangs over his face. The child cries as he holds impending doom against his head and waits. It’s silent save for the moans of Gordon’s wife and the child’s cries. How long before monsters come to spread their lies?
By Cornelius Spunkwater
----
Steel flashes from Monk’s side and he scowls with hair flying back and he resets his brim. Wayne looks him in the eye and they cross cold ground bare of grass. Speed picks up and a hollow stare follows.
Inside the church the congregation sits listening to Blackfire’s sermon this night while they hold blades and lust hard for blood run. Blackfire says: Tonight we consume for our might sinful flesh that we may vindicate our world in the eyes of God. Unrepentent they may be, but through our faith in this hour we cleanse their souls and become one being sent from the Lord. Sharpen your blades, men of God. This is a righteous battle we take on.
Doors burst and a frenzy of death begins. Shots explode through men’s heads with smoke and blood splattered glory that makes the lust build. Monk grins while men scream for mercy never given and bodies thud around them. A hatchet strikes Wayne in the chest and he howls and drops his weapon to rip away the cultist’s throat. Two guns and no rest when emptied. A dozen men die and blood drips from Wayne’s lips. The rest run but Monk catches one and tears into the carotid bliss where fresh blood fulfills him. Wayne takes a wretch and follows suit. Together they feed but miss the ultimate goal: Blackfire.
The men are gone. They take their guns and reload for what’s to come.
- - -
Blackfire mounts his horse and rides toward the town. His followers scatter on foot and cry help but it comes not. Bullets hit men around and Monk takes his mount and Wayne to enter hell.
Faster now and Monk aims but misses the shot and Blackfire peers back. Monk picks up some speed while Wayne readies himself for the chance he’s got and leaps to Blackfire’s horse. Wayne shouts: You need to stop this. It’s over
But Blackfire throws elbows back and Wayne staggers. Blackfire says: I know what you are, vampire.
He throws another blow and says: I’ll send you to hell, that you know your own kind.
Monk shoots close but misses again. Blackfire knows Wayne aside and looks back to grin. Monk pulls beside Blackfire and the two race in the prarie darkness. Monk reaches to grab but he pulls a six-shooter against his face point blank and fires. Half Monk’s face falls slabbed over dirt and rocks. Momentum throws him back and he hits the ground spilling blood while his horse trots aimlessly. Blackfire rides toward distance black until he’s gone.
Wayne walks a steady course toward Monk and pulls him up and asks: You all right?
I’m missin half my fuckin face but I reckon I’ll be fine.
Let’s get us some blood and then call the reaper to claim that son of a bitch.
Sun’s bout to come up in a couple hours, Monk says.
Guess we’d better move.
Vampires. Who’d’ve thunk.
- - -
Blackfire rides through the town center and kicks open Gordon’s door. Inside he lay deathly pale in bed and his wife tends bandages bloody thick. She faces Blackfire and screams while the wind wail blows from the door. Their son wakes and peers in the room. Blackfire sees the child and shoots her in the shoulder and savors the child’s fear before he steals him in one arm like a fool and backs into a corner of the boy’s room.
He breathes heavily and sweaty hair hangs over his face. The child cries as he holds impending doom against his head and waits. It’s silent save for the moans of Gordon’s wife and the child’s cries. How long before monsters come to spread their lies?