Demonic Double Cross
* * * * *
Kurt had given up firing his twin 9mm automatics into the abomination. After the third clip, it kind of seemed pointless. For every hole his pistols punched into the damn thing, a scrap of cloth would worm its way over the wound and either fill or bind it.
The sawed-off shotgun that West was packing made a little more progress against the abomination’s health. He had blown off one of its “fingers” but that, like all the other damage, seemed only temporary. A knitting of scarves scooped up the missing mannequin arm and reattached it to the abomination in seconds.
It seemed that the Twins were finally facing a crisis that couldn’t be solved by brute force alone. Therefore it was a problem that the Twins were unprepared for and yet the thought of abandoning the fight never once crossed their minds. No, even as Kurt and West took cover in an aisle as the mannequin monster began hurling whatever items it could wrap it’s massive hands around, they didn’t think of quitting. If anything, their hunger for victory was intensified.
“Could try blowing it up again.” West shouted across the aisle as he ducked a clothing rack that the abomination threw his way, “Would that work?!”
Before Kurt could figure out where he might find something more explosive than a fire extinguisher, the abomination charged forward with speed that seemed impossible for its size. It’s enormous, plastic fist reached over the row of shelves the biker had taken refuge behind and plucked Kurt up like a toy. West shouted in anger as the mannequin monster hurled his counterpart out of the aisle with a careless snap of its arm. Kurt, experienced with motorcycle crashes, rolled across the floor to play out his momentum which prevented any major injury but left him dizzy and disoriented nearly five yards away.
Determined not to let the abomination capitalize on Kurt’s disorientation, West stepped out of the aisle and took hold of the very same clothing rack that the mannequin monster had just thrown. Mimicking an Olympian performing the hammer throw, the giant spun round and round, putting as much momentum and force into the steel rack as possible. With a grunt, he sent the metal frame soaring through the air where it cleared the row of shelves and crashed right into the abomination.
The mannequin monster didn’t even seem to notice the blow as the clothing rack bounced off its plastic hide.
“Goddamn!” West grunted, sweat dampening his brow, “What the fuck do we have to do to get rid of this thing?!”
Kurt was either out of earshot or didn’t have an answer for his counterpart because he didn’t bother with a reply. They were fighting a losing battle and they both knew it. While this would have demoralized lesser men the Twins simply grew angrier. All they needed was an edge, something that could help even the odds against the occult forces that protected the abomination from lasting harm.
Luckily I had arranged for just such an advantage.
The speakers in the ceiling crackled to life, followed by a loud beep.
“Um…there was a loud beep and now nothing.” A feminine voice boomed throughout the store via the overhead.
There was a static filled silence following that announcement. The hush was broken by a noise that sounded suspiciously like tape being used. This entire racket was being broadcasted on every speaker in the store which would have been confusing to anyone who didn’t know Fiona was fiddling with the PA system in the manager’s office.
Unlike the Twins who were puzzled over the speakers’ announcements, the abomination didn’t seem to care. Instead, the mannequin monster used the opportunity and rambled forward towards West. Again the abomination moved with speed that didn’t seem natural (as if anything about the damn thing was natural) and the giant didn’t have much time to do anything other than prepare to be knocked flat.
That’s when the noise began.
Over the speakers crackled a massive amount of nonsense. Pipe organs, wood instruments, church bells and a hundred different voices in several languages all began shouting at once. The few voices that were in English were singing praises to God though there were a few references to Allah, Buddha and Krishna as well. It was a truly magnificent collection of audio pollution.
What seemed like a minor annoyance to the Twins (who could barely hear themselves think over the intense gibberish), was absolutely devastating to the abomination. It had stopped dead in its tracks as the prayer-filled prattle rang throughout the store. The mannequin monster seemed to become less…consolidated than it had been moments before. It was as if whatever arcane bonds holding its makeshift mass together were beginning to weaken.
The speakers momentarily ceased spewing the jumble of religious chants and hymns as a familiar voice boomed out across the store.
“Hello all you faithful listeners! This is your DJ, Buggy!” The hacker’s voice crackled over the PA system, “What we will be listening to over the next little while is my personal remix of all things holy. That’s right! The vocals are praises and hymns to Buddha, Jesus, Mohammad and even Vishnu while the music ranges from church bells to pipe organs! I’ll even throw in Native American and Gregorian chants with a few Baptist choirs mixed on in. As I take you into the AM be sure to get your faith on!”
The hacker’s voice was then replaced by the chaotic clash of religious praises and song. The mannequin monster began sagging to one side as a few pieces like socks and a wool sweater fell from its body. West and Kurt regrouped at the front of the aisle, staring at their now sickly looking opponent.
“What the hell is wrong with it?” West asked, watching the abomination’s body quiver slightly, “Not a music buff?”
In lieu of a reply, Kurt raised his pistol and opened fire. A pair of bullet holes opened up inside the abomination’s chest. This time (thankfully) no clothing was summoned to repair the damage dealt, though the attack did snap the mannequin monster out of its stupor. It hastily lunged forward and lashed out with a backhanded strike, losing one of its fingers in the process. The attack caught West in the shoulder but the giant planted his feet and slid across the tiles instead of being batted aside.
“Still has some fight in it!” West commented, reaching out and grasping one of the mannequin arms that made up the fist. His massive biceps bulged and West managed to rip another finger from the abomination. Discarding the plastic limb, the giant was pleasantly surprised to find the mannequin monster was still unable to reassemble its missing parts.
“Ah, yeah! Things just got a whole helluva lot less complicated!” West thundered, a grin spreading across his face.
The abomination’s free hand came swooping down just as those words fell from the giant’s lips. The blow caught West right between the shoulders, knocking him flat on his face. The giant’s forehead struck a floor tile so hard that it shattered upon impact. The mannequin monster didn’t get any chance to press the attack as Kurt began shooting. The biker’s potshots were precise, blowing a chunk of plastic off the abomination’s body or reopening an old wound by destroying the cloth binding. The abomination took a few steps back, raising its enormous arms to shield its body from the hot lead tearing through it.
“Get up.” Kurt growled, kicking West in the side.
The giant groaned, slowly getting to his feet before digging a shard of broken tile out of his forehead. Other than the center of his forehead being scraped and cut, the only other damage West had sustained seemed to be a broken nose.
“Bad news.” The biker told his counterpart.
“No shit. I just face planted ceramic covered concrete.” West growled, using both his thumbs to force the newest kink in the bridge of his nose back into place. This act was followed by a blood-covered snot rocket to clear out his nasal passages.
“Worse than that. I’ve only got five rounds left.” Kurt replied though there was no sense of urgency in his voice.
“I’m still seeing stars.” West pointed out, “What are you saying?”
“I don’t know how we are going to beat this thing.” Kurt concluded.
Though West hated to admit it, his counter
part was right. Given their previous beatings and nearly dried up ammo supply, their chances of victory were dwindling. The Twins could try to dismantle the abomination with their bare hands but that would put them well within the mannequin monster’s powerful strike range.
It seemed their musically fueled advantage was a short lived one.
“Should we try to blow it up again?” West asked, “See if that works?”
“Yeah, TNT is on aisle four.”
“You don’t need to be a dick about it.”
The biker shrugged, “What are we gonna do?”
The abomination lowered its arms and if it could speak there was no question it would be howling with rage. Reaching out with one of its massive hands, the mannequin monster ripped a SALE sign from the chains that attached it to the ceiling.
West dove left.
Kurt dove right.
The thin strip of metal was hurled with such force that it actually carved a gash across the floor where the Twins had just been standing before ricocheting and lodging itself into a nearby checkout counter. The abomination seemed reinvigorated with its discovery of projectiles and quickly reached out for more objects to throw.
“Any bright ideas?!” West shouted as he took cover behind a row of wooden barrels that had BARGAIN BIN spray painted across them.
Though the giant wouldn’t have been able to hear his counterpart’s reply over the religious jumble blaring over the PA, Kurt stuck his head out from behind the pyramid of brand-less sodas long enough to shake his head.
Any other means of communication between the Twins were temporarily cut as they both pulled back into their respective bunkers as the abomination shambled over to the nearest aisle and began hurling massive handfuls of plates, silverware and then the actual shelves themselves. The cheap plates shattered and sent a spray of harden plastic everywhere. Luckily no harm came to the Twins…other than a knife puncturing a soda can which resulted in Kurt getting sprayed in the face with cola.
Metal screeched in protest as the abomination tore another shelf off the aisle with ridiculous ease. Then the mannequin monster hurled the shelf like a Frisbee and the flat steel became a virtual buzz-saw of motion as it whistled over West’s head…
…and almost split Father O’Brawley in half.
The old priest either had a divine presence or an incredible amount of luck on his side. While he had been running towards the commotion (which he must have heard before Buggy started playing DJ), Father O’Brawley had been stopped dead in his tracks by either shock or awe as he laid eyes on the abomination. It was at that moment that the mannequin monster had chosen to hurl the shelf at the newcomer but thankfully its aim was found lacking.
“Fuck!” West cursed, raising his booming voice over the PA’s gibberish, “Take cover old man!”
Father O’Brawley sprinted into the nearest aisle, still several rows behind West’s impromptu bunker and therefore relatively safe from any further objects thrown his way. Seeing its newest opponent had retreated, the abomination rambled forward, barreling down on Kurt’s position.
“Dammit.” The biker cursed, getting to his feet and dashing away from his shelter just as the abomination slammed its enormous fist down upon the soda-stack pyramid. The sheer force of the blow caused many of the cans to rupture and explode, sending a wave of horrible tasting pop everywhere.
Kurt cleared the several yards between his ruined shelter and the barrels West was hiding behind in record time. The biker leapt over the bargain bins, landing hard on his ass. He quickly put his back up against the barrels for cover as he asked his counterpart, almost casually, “So, come up with any new plans?”
“None.” The giant sighed, reaching up into the barrel he was currently hiding behind and retrieving a candy bar with foreign lettering across it.
The abomination raised its massive fist and shook several pieces of soda cans-turned-scrap metal from it. In a show of what might have been anger, the mannequin monster raised its stiff leg and stomped on the remaining soda cans. The CRUNCH! sound was audible even over the religious babble of the speakers.
“Y’know, it’s really not that bad,” West commented around a mouth full of unidentified candy bar.
“You got an idea then?” Kurt asked, not wanting to imagine what the abomination’s foot might do to bone if it could crush a stack of twelve packs into paper-thin sheets of aluminum.
“No, this candy bar.” The giant replied, “Tastes fruity with an aftertaste of… fish?”
“If you lads are done gawking at the big…whatever it is, I have an idea to help save yer hides.”
Kurt and West looked over their shoulders as Father O’Brawley crawled towards them, careful to keep out of sight of the raging mannequin monster. He hadn’t come to their aide empty handed either. Clutched to his chest, the old priest had several cans of hairspray that may or may have not already been dented before any of us ever set foot inside the Ocean Grocer.
Having destroyed what remained of the soda-can pyramid, the abomination turned to regard its true targets. The mannequin monster took a menacing step forward, its stride so wide that it would be upon the trio of intruders in two more steps.
“What good will those do?” Demanded West as he eyed the cans of hairspray.
“We be needin’ a fire.” Father O’Brawley informed the Twins, handing the cans of hairspray to West, “Right now! If what Broker told me is true, that’ll put an end to whatever witchcraft is going on inside these walls.”
The Twins glanced at each other.
The old priest sighed, “I know, I know. I gotta be outta me skull to trust that rake.”
The abomination took another step forward.
“Fine, let’s burn the damn thing!” West said, jumping to his feet and shouting defiantly at the charging abomination, “Die!”
The giant hurled a single can of hairspray. It flew straight and true and struck the abomination in the head…then bounced off the mannequin monster’s skull harmlessly. The abomination stopped in its track as if it were stunned that its prey would try something so utterly idiotic.
“Ready this time?” West sighed, glancing at Kurt.
“Yeah.” The biker replied with a small grin, raising his pistol.
The abomination lifted its massive leg to clear the rest of the distance between itself and its opponents when West hurled a second can of hairspray. This can had the same trajectory as the first but just before it touched the abomination the hairspray exploded.
Kurt lowered his pistol, having done his part by shooting the can.
Though the initial explosion of the hairspray wasn’t that impressive it served its purpose. The contents of the can created a searing flash as all of the alcohol in the hairspray was ignited. The small flare was over in a blink of an eye…but not before it had successfully set the pantyhose binding on the abomination’s skull ablaze.
The fire quickly spread.
Heavy, black wisps of smoke curled and twisted in the air as pieces of the abomination’s body began to catch fire. The majority of the flames were short lived as the abomination thrashed about, not exactly in pain but somehow knowing that the fire was bad. The mannequin monster’s massive hands beat out the blaze quickly, even tearing some burning articles of clothing from its body.
But not before the smoke did its part.
Piercing whistles went off as the store’s ancient fire alarm was engaged. The sprinkler system took a few moments to catch on, the years of neglect and outdated safety protocols taking it’s toll but eventually water began spewing forth from the ceiling and raining down all over the Ocean Grocer.
The very same water that Father O’Brawley had just blessed.
The mass of clothing and dummy parts that made up the abomination began to quiver. These shakes turned into full-blown convulsions as soon as the holy water soaked every inch of its body. The mannequin monster’s canvas skin and cloth muscle soaked up the blessed liquid greedily which seemed to speed up the process of d
estroying whatever magic granted it life.
Kurt, West and Father O’Brawley watched in what could only be described as morbid fascination as the effects of the holy water became more severe. One of the pillar-like legs of the abomination ruptured and it fell forward, only managing to keep upright thanks to its gorilla-like posture. This was followed by the cloth corded muscles of the arms unraveling like a mummy and soon entire sections of the mannequin monster’s body began raining onto the tiles in wet plops.
In a final act of aggressive defiance the abomination leapt at its opponents as if it were attempting to crush them all under its weight. Whatever arcane bonds held the damn thing together decided to rupture at that exact moment, causing the abomination’s body to burst in midair, sending soggy, wet pieces of the mannequin monster flying in every direction.
The only piece of the monstrosity that maintained its original form was its skull…which bounced across the tile until it landed right at the feet of its opponents.
“Water?” West asked, taking another bite of his now-soggy candy bar, “It couldn’t stand water?”
“Not just any water, lad.” Father O’Brawley beamed, “I blessed the tanks that stored these waters. It rinses away the foul magicks that can be conjured by this cult.”
Kurt looked down at the head of the abomination and without so much as a second thought, booted the thing. The skull bounced across the store floor, bringing what some might dare call a look of satisfaction to the biker’s usually neutral features.
“So,” Kurt began, slicking down his water-soaked Mohawk, “Didn’t Broker tell us to leave once it started getting wet?”
* * * * *