Down the other end of the hall, embracing the darkness like a bright Summer’s day was the pasty-faced killing machine Cat Strutter. Moonlight bent to the shape of her high heel boots and yellow curly hair, gleaming off her blood-stained machete. Eyeing the mayor’s office a few yards away, there was one kill left to scratch off her long list of victims. No need to hide her true form any longer. She pulled off her frizzy blonde locks and plopped to the ground like a wet mop. Two mini horns poked from the top of her head. Cosmetic skin bubbled and sizzled away like bacon cooking in a greasy pan, unveiling a tar-colored demon with deformed gory features and jagged layering coating her physical frame. Cat got a whiff of the cowardly odor stinking from the mayor’s sweaty scalp as she crept into the reception area. This assassination was vital to John Hart’s diabolical plan. But to her, this was fun.
Quietly, she opened the door. There was Goldberg, leaning over with his hands pressed against the desk. Alongside him was a shot glass and an open bottle of Scotch. Creeping up closer, the demon didn’t make a sound as she raised her machete like a knight groomed for battle, salivating for the taste
of blood. Goldberg was oblivious to the minutes of life he had left before his remains get splashed all over the office furniture. Closer. Cat had a devilish grin on her face, revealing two rows of deformed fangs. Green ooze leaked over her chapped lips.
Then, the unthinkable happened when Goldberg turned around. Cat froze with unbearable fear. Her wicked heart jumped into her throat. Eyes bulged so far out that they nearly popped out. Why? Was what so terrifying about a sleazy,
out-of-shaped, politician? Unless, of course, it wasn’t him.
His trench got ripped to shreds like toilet paper. Untying a hair knot, long brunette locks draped over the shoulders. Death had come for Cat Strutter, from the one person who survived the butchery of her unforgiving blade. She came back to finish what she started at the bank. It was Natalie Mercedes.
Cat shivered with her blade still in the air. The anger in Natalie’s eyes could
burn through lead. The room grew very hot. White flames ignited from her
hands. Gloss over her eyes shined in a flaming yellow light. Time for this demon
In a daunting multi-voice, Cat screamed in fury and attacked. Natalie shattered the deadly blade with just one slap. The demon was horrified, nothing left to do but hyperventilate. Even the most elite Clucifix soldiers also feared eternal torment in the depths of Hell.
Natalie closed her eyes and a raging fire ignited around her body, coating
her inside like a cocoon. Cat gagged from the humidity that smothered the entire room. Few loose strands of hair curled into crust. Her murky skin cracked like a mud mask. The heat reached over a hundred degrees, melting the machete into a puddle of liquid metal. With a parting shot, Natalie formed another large fireball and threw it at the demon’s chest. Yells of agony shattered every window in the office as Cat felt unimaginable suffering while every inch of her body burned to ash. Horns peeled from her skull like an orange. Her skeletal gasped and flapped around in the heat until it exploded.
Ash fluttered throughout the office like the first of Winter’s snow on a cold and crisp night. Natalie’s temperature gradually dropped back to normal. Flames dispersed. Clothing was still intact. She stumbled against the bookshelf, flushed and drained. Wiping off the profuse sweat running from her forehead, she cracked a smile in relief. The hunt had ended. She won. Cat Strutter was no more. Steadily catching her breath, she looked over her shoulder and hollered, “Okay, you can come out now.”
Hiding under his large maple desk was a frightened Mayor Goldberg, shaking like an electric toothbrush. With gratitude, he crawled across the filthy carpet like a newborn baby and grabbed the Angelite’s ankles, graciously thanking her for saving his life. Natalie grabbed him by his arm and yanked him to his feet. From front to back, his gray pants were completely soiled.
“Do you need a job?” he grovelingly begged. “I can get you one. Yes! As part of my security force – or on my task force! Hell, you can lead my task force!! I just want you on my staff! Please! I’ll give you money – whatever you need – oh, thank you – thank you! Thank you! THANK YOU!”
Acting on impulse, Natalie drilled a left cross to the mayor’s face. “That’s for the policemen’s lives you’ve ruined,” she said. Goldberg laid flat on his back, staring at swirly stars. She waited for a minute for him to wake up. After a few slaps to the face, she realized he was coldcocked. “Sorry about that,” she apologized while looking toward the heavens. “I’m working on it.” She then
grabbed Goldberg by his ankles and dragged him out like a laundry bag, leaving
a streak of clean behind the ash-covered floor.