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Green Sunday part 2: Second Sunday

By Ryk Brink All Rights Reserved ©

Horror / Humor

Some girls are bigger than others

TJ froze making a stupid face. Trying to flip through ten seconds of footage of his pathetic life flashing before his eyes. Lots of him just sitting in his underpants watching anime and jacking it to anime porn. His mom’s smile, and a man he thought he recognised but couldn’t place. A skinny guy with short dark hair in a buttoned shirt with a pocket protector. ‘Who is that guy?’ He said to himself as he stood dumbstruck. Staring into the those glowing spider eyes rolling towards him through the threshing blades.

“TJ!” A faraway voice called out to him and he turned in a dreamy haze before getting knocked hard on his ass. The eyes following him in slow motion as the buzzing of blades moved like a cloud of wasps shredding up the top ice as they passed.

Sunday knocked TJ out of the way. She pushed her bat out in front of her. The force of the movement of this thing wrenching it twisting out of her hands and sending it into the air. It landed with a thudding clink. Lodging a heavy circular saw blade into the ice like it was put there by the lady in the lake herself.

The rolled to a stop and started to come together. A picture was forming as the rounded gauging blades slowed, white hot. Cooling and steaming on the ice. The frame of the thing heaving with unnatural laboured breathing. Which moved mechanically like bellows making a harsh wheezing noise.

It was big, atleast seven foot tall but hunched like it was on all fours. Twelve foot long with a whipping barbed metallic tail. No backlegs, just the tail and the front pronged metallic claws like a birds. It’s head was a squat thing with no neck, some kind of helmet covered in sharp barbed spikes. The entire length of it’s body was covered in these holes with gauged rounded blades like a “Fucking cheesegrater cyborg?” TJ said as he peeled himself over his fat gut to get a good look at that thing. “Seriously?!” He spat as he got to his knee.

-

The Lancer jumped like Achilles and lunged his lance down at his date laughing. The lance found it’s target but it hit with a dull thud on the dense skin of whatever this thing was. It didn’t penetrate as far as he would have liked.

Garylynn sniffed like a Rhino. She picked up the skinny Lancer and tossed him against the side of the truck like a bundle of twigs. His thin metallic arms and legs rattling and cracking together.

The Lancer slumped onto the ground winded but the monster he was fighting didn’t get the time out memo. She was on him like in an istant pinning him to the side of the truck like the stick insect he’d become. He was pinned by the throat by the huge arm, it gave no quarter. He tried to move his arms but they made laboured whirring and hissing noises. Flailing like they weren’t connected to anything making dull sparking noises.

He was distracted for a moment then the thing was doing something new. It peeled off the wig on its head, stuck their with pins and staples and glue. Revealing a flat bald head like Frankenstein. It held the Lancer in place with one hand. With the other pryed his masked helmet off with a cracking crunching noise revealing his boyish features.

When it had done that it reached into it’s own mouth and pulled something like it was a lever. A mneumatic hiss of gas escaping as it removed it’s lower jaw. Revealing a slick and vaguely phallic muscular tongue about the size of a cows. It was hot, steam rising off it in the cold, wrapped around the Lancer’s boyish head coating it a thick slimey ichor. The boy Lancer grimaced in disgust.

He lifted his Lance up trying to push it up under the thing’s chin. But it batted it away and he fired one end of it over it’s shoulder. The lance end shooting off like some premature firework display. But it caught the giant’s attention. It’s tongue pulled back off the Lancer’s head and it turned to watch the chrome spike fly off into the distance.

Giving the Lancer the opening he needed. The other end of the lance began to spin and vibrate and give off a white heat. He shook off the skeletal metal framework arm off his right hand. Firmly gripping the wrist of the monster reaching up and turning the thumb out to loosen it’s hold. The thing turned it’s attention back on the pinned Lancer. Just in time to witness him cut his arm off at the elbow with the oscilitating metal lance.

The thing shrieked and flailed i’st stump around. The Lancer fell to a squat position coughing and gasping for air. Wiping the gunk off his face with his free hand and throwing it on the ground angrily.

The thing got it’s composure back pretty quick and was on him again tackling him against the truck. A football style shoulder rush slamming him against the side of the truck again. But this time the Lancer took the force to his gut and gritted his teeth. Waiting for a small opening when the thing bounced. He tensed and took the full force of it and there was a momentary gap as it pushed back from the force of the hit. A split second of levity he used to slip under it’s grip before it could use it’s immense girth to pin him again.

He dropped below it’s grip and rolled to it’s left slicing with the white hot vibrating lance. Taking it’s left leg with an arched strike.

It collapsed slow and mechanically like an old grandfather clock. You could almost hear all those cogs creaking.

The Lancer rolled into a cool power ranger pose. One leg bent the other outstretched the lance held in a reverse grip out to his side. He was panting and satisfied, a bead of sweat on his forehead and a tight gritted smile.

As soon as it hit the ground it was alive again. Mobile and quick and vicious. It hobbled across the concrete towards the Lancer as he recovered. Before he could re-collect himself it had yanked his outstretched leg and off balanced him. He lay almost prone on his back trying to steady himself with his elbows and impede it’s advancement up his body. It pulled him so fast sparks caught on his metal elbows as he was dragged across the concrete.

It was crawling with It’s one hand and pushing it’s self along with it’s one leg. It’s grotestque tongue lashing and dripping with that vile hot ichor.

The Lancer narrowed his eyes at the grotesque and eager monster. He sighed still propped up on his elbows. He craned his neck back and looked behind him and then back at the monster as it pulled its way up his body. He flattened his forearms and lay flat as it descended upon him. That hot disgusting appendage hovering over his face. Dripping that viscous goo. Draping it’s lumpy misshapen shadow over his sleek form ready to do something without a doubt ungodly.

The Lancer sneered like an angsty teen at the dentist against his will. His blonde hair swept up into a ridiculous looking cowslick by his previous tongue lashing.

-

A wall of giant legos crashed down like a wall of cardboard boxes in some 70’s blackploitation kung fu movie. Mr. Fuzzles the giant purple cat fell back through the barricade he’d erected in front of the toy store entrance.

He shook his head as he pushed himself up onto his hands.

“Erm, Sparkles, you need to rest ok. I’ll just go, erm, get you some water, or something.” Fuzzles said as he scrabbled to his feet projecting himself backwards. The figure of the sparkly unicorn moved towards him.

“Erm, you should, you should lay down, I think” He stuttered.

Sparkles/Mitch stumbled over the mess of legos in the entrance. He grabbed the door jam to propel her-himself forward. His face was drawn and pale, with sallow eyelids, a sheen of sweat and spittle all over his face. He turned to his hooves seeing they didn’t get him much traction on the doorjam, stumbling over the lego. He then proceeded to rip of the hooves of his costume with his teeth, revealing pale really really hairy sweaty hands.

A weird comatose zombie smile crossed it’s face as it got a better grip of the doorjam. Transcending the pile of legos.

Just stay there and, erm, I’ll come back for help.” Mr Fuzzles said as he backed away lifting his paw up to pacify the hungry beast.

It was moving slow, he had some time, he looked up and down the hall. He was on the second floor of the mall, his back up against a railing over looking the mall floor, walkways on both sides.

He looked off down the right and saw that the escalators were blocked by debris and men with guns. It was the same on the otherside. He looked down at it was a straight forty or thirty foot drop, no way he’d walk away from that without at least one broken leg.

In his fit of frantic scouting he’d unfortunately miscalculated the speed and hunger of the newly formed sparkle zombie. That was now on top of him putting his sweaty hairy hands on Mr Fuzzles fuzzy face.

“Oh jesus” He screeched. As he looked at the gaunt mushy zombie face and the horrendous state of Mitch’s dirty nails. “HEELLPPPP!!!!”

-

“Huh, what the hell was that?” TJ said as he looked up at the balcony. He squinted and said “Is that a giant purple cat?”

Sunday sighed.

The balcony gave way to their combined weight and the two figures fell around thirty feet onto the ice. “Ooh” TJ said as he winced covering his face with his hands, watching them fall through his fingers.

From a distance it looked like a couple of plushies falling and landing with an adorable sqeaking noise on the ice.

-

Mitch fell hard and his brains were splattered all over the ice. His head had literally exploded like a ripe watermelon on the ice. Making a sound like bag full of eggs hitting a brick wall.

Fuzzles lay flat on his front, not moving. he wriggled slowly into life, groaning as he felt pain and stiffness all over his body. “Ow” he said as he lifted himself onto his belly with his hands into a modified cobra/cat pose. “Oh my god, I’m alive” He said as he looked at his hands and touched his chest. “It must have been the padding in my suit, erm, what the hell is this stuff.” He said as he put his paws together touching the white snowlike substance. “Snow, inside?”

He looked around groggy at the walls of the ice rink. Then at all the ice under him and then a giant spikey shadow looming over him. “Oh that can’t be good”.

A birdlike metallic claw plucked him off the ice. It clumsily scraped up giant chunks of it launching it into the air.

“Oh shit” Fuzzles said as he hung from the foot of his suit suspended by the claw like a giant morbid toy grabber.

The Eviscergrator’s blades were spinning and locking and biting and chomping. Pulling back an opening in it’s chest appeared of whirring blades like a horizontal blender or a mouth. A maw of gnashing biting metal teeth pulling inwards with spiked rollers like a woodchipper.

A slight ripping noise couldn’t be heard over all that gnashing metal as the foot of Fuzzles suit tore. He plummeted towards the maw of waiting blades.

A puffing laboured whirring noise and he was gone in an instant. A cloud of fluff and blood splattered against the wall of the ice rink.

-

Garylynn’s tongue tried to force itself into the Lancers mouth but he kept his lips tight like a virtuous anime girl. The tongue stopped like it was caught in a vice or it was struck by lighting. He opened his eyes and watched the other end of his lance he sent flying a moment ago. Was now lodged in it’s monstrous mouth and was beginning to pick up spinning speed. Wrapping up the tongue and drilling deep into it’s head.

It was slow going, the tongue was strong, fibrous muscle tissue and the head was thick and dense. It must have weighed more than a couple of bowling balls. The rocket propellent on the back of the lance chugged and coughed as it drilled deeper. Pushing at the head and wrending the tongue loose. It was pulled off at the root and was whipping around flinging orange blood and weird goo everywhere.

Some goop hit the Lancer in the eye and he wiped it out with an angry look on his face.

The tug of war was making way. The head was loosening the last scraps of skin giving way and snapping like strained bubble gum. When it was loose the lance end rocketed and nailed the disgusting head to the side of the truck like a grotesque trophy. It’s open mouth leaking the foul substance.

The Lancer moved the now still corpse of the monster off his frame . He stood overlooking the monstrous thing now still and maudlin. A strange noise was emanating from it, a buzzing hissing noise rising from the body. He straightened, readying himself for the unexpected. Lance held high ready to spear the thing again.

In an instant it seemed to dissolve into a cloud of bees or locusts swarming into the air. Lancer didn’t move as they swarmed around him and up into the air.

He went over to recover the other end of his lance and the head had melted in the same fashion. Sliding off the clean chrome lance and releasing these strange insects from inside. He snapped one on his neck and looked at his hand in disgust. What was left in his hand was no insect, but some kind of machine made to look like one.

He dusted his hand off and shrugged, sighed and picked up his helmet and put it back on. He pressed a button on the lance and reattached the other end of the lance. The earpiece in the helmet was buzzing with radio activity. The lance end reconnected with a snapping clicking noise and he listened.

“Received” In an instant he was gone leaving the truck and the cool silence of the day and the desolation.

A wind blew, a deathly stillness interrupted by a creaking groaning noise. Inside the truck it was a mess, it looked like it had fallen off a cliff. Which was pretty close to what actually happened. The walls inside that were lined with monitors were now almost empty. A few barely hanging on like the remaining teeth in a methhead boxer’s mouth. The rest of the monitors were piled in a mound like a makeshift grave. They sparked like a sickly cough lighting up the dim room perferatted by odd holes. Leaking in daylight and dancing on the dust and gunshot residue.

One of the monitors turned on and it was an aerial shot from one of the drones with a directional mic attached. It was flying over the top of the mall. Getting a panning shot as thousands of furry zombies poured into the front of the mall. No doubt attracted by the loud noises and flashing lights. A disorganized mob of fuzzy corpses milling about aimlessly. The din of their droning almost drowning out the cheesy Christmas music playing over the speakers.

The drone panned back and then flew over the top of the mall, over the hole in the domeshaped skylight. It zoomed in on the icerink, isolating TJ and Sunday. They stood readying themselves for the next attack.

“What d’we do? We can’t fight that thing!” TJ whined.

“We’ve got no choice” Sunday spat.

“How? A sword isn’t going to do shit against that armor and that’s even if we can hit it.”

The drone footage cut off and the monitor split into four separate security feeds from inside the mall. All capturing Sunday from different angles.

“Sunday? What do we do?”

The pile of monitors shifted like grave dirt in an old zombie movie.

“SUNDAY” TJ’s voice said over the monitors.

“Sunday” A voice said in the van.

“Sunday!” The voice said again.

A fat fist punched out, rising from the monitor grave. It reached out and clasped the barrel of the cannon and screamed in a broken cracked voice “SUNDAY!”

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