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Green Sunday part 2: Second Sunday

By Ryk Brink All Rights Reserved ©

Horror / Humor

Kinda outta luck

“ADAM WAIT!” A ghostly voice cried out.

A deathly pause, a black echo, the sound of shaking metal and a robotic response; “That name.”

TJ opened his eyes slowly, the metal foot hovering an inch in front of his face about to curb stomp him against the ice. The foot was stopped, frozen with hesitation. The Lancer paused, he shook his head and pretended he didn’t hear it. A mistake, a ghost in the machine and pressed his foot against TJ’s skull pinning it to the ice. Put pressure on it a pound at a time of crushing pressure.

“ADAM STOP!” A shrill voice cried.

The Lancer stopped again and took the pressure off. The hair on the back of his neck raised like he was a kid caught playing with his mothers high heels. He breathed in and out but didn’t turn his head. He shook his head again and put his foot back.

TJ closed his eyes. The cold metal foot was still stopped and all he could hear was the drone of the furry horde. The Lancer’s foot came completely off TJ’s head and he stumbled backwards weighed down by something. White tentacles wrapped around his throat and his legs and his arms and his waist. More and more latching on until he was almost covered in these white appendages.

TJ rolled onto his back and he rubbed his eyes trying to focus on the ghostly arms that had hold of the chrome knight.

‘Arm…s’ plural, the Lancer was locked down by a series of thin naked white arms.

A straight jacket of porcelain flesh constricting around all his joints stopping him like quicksand. His movements grinding to a halt as more and more arms began to wrap around him.

“What the fuck?” TJ whispered.

-

Carpenter looked down at the sea of furry faces. All cheery and colourful and hungry for flesh and probably the juice inside eyeballs. He lost his balance for a second wobbling the plank. He darted his head back and kept his cutlass high locking eyes with the Frenchman who was still and silent.

“Are you ready?” The Frenchman said. His voice ringing with a gleeful tone of completion. Of fate reaches out a warm hand and patting him on the small of his back.

Carpenter said nothing. He smiled broadly and started to rock back and forth and then bounce slightly up and down like he was a on a trampoline. Getting deeper into the bounce each time.

The Frenchman lost some composure as he felt the board shaking. Heard it creaking and groaning, wood fibres splitting and giving way. “What are you doing?” He shrieked as he could feel it giving way.

Carpenter fed on his fear, his smile growing wider. His lips parting showing those sharp teeth and he said; “Whatever it takes.”

-

The flames crackled, metal shifted like the scales on a dragon. Six red lights sparking in and out like a broken slot machine.

Another white hand pulled his helmet back revealing his strained boyish face. Monstrous veins popping out of his cheeks and necks. His one green one blue eyes darting back and forth like a cornered animal. The helmet hit the ice and rolled.

“Adam, it’s me” a voice whispered in his ear.

“I-DON’T-KNOW-THAT-NAME!” The Lancer screamed straining against the arms cocooning him. The Lance came up with a quick flash and limbs were cut free like white zip ties flailing on the ice bloodless and shaking.

He lurched forward freeing one side of his body, stumbling as they dragged on his legs and his neck and head. He flailed around angrily stomping and shaking and throwing white naked bodies. Stabbing and cutting and crushing but it was like fighting a wave of white cement. Just getting thicker and harder as more and more limbs swallowed him. Little white hands covering his face and his mouth and eyes, swallowed by a sea of lily white petals.

-

“Stop are you mad? We’ll both die!” The Frenchman whined bending his knee trying to find his centre of gravity. He looked down at the bed of furry monsters below as the plank bent and started to buckle.

Carpenter watched his eyes dip and pounced forward flinging his pirate coat off his shoulders and throwing it over the Frenchman.

The Frenchman felt the movement and heard the rustling of the jacket and reacted fast, planting his feet.

Carpenter was on him fast but the Frenchman got his composure back too quick and stepped into his lunge. Driving the rapier up and forward skewering the coat and Carpenter on the otherside up to the hilt.

-

TJ tried to stand but his legs felt like jelly he took a knee. His hand pressed onto the ice watching the limbs devour the Lancer. “What the hell is going on?”

A sudden wind and a flash of heat knocked him back onto his ass.

The bubble of porcelain limbs was popped by a white hot barbed missile. The limbs peeling off burning and shredding against the blades. The Lancer slid on the ice holding up the dragon like jaws of the Eviscergrator reborn in flames.

He dug his clawed metal feet into the ice and started to slow it as it lost leverage. The momentum of its pounce petering out.

The two monsters struggled against eachother in a confused tussle. Hercules fighting the lion, holding it’s mouth open. Straining against the barbed steel jaws.

The Eviscergrator missing an arm lost it’s balance. The Lancer twisted and slammed it against the ice. Climbing the gouging blades on it’s neck like the rungs of a ladder with its metal feet.

It climbed it like it was a giant horse up and around it’s neck propping the lancer under it’s chin like a bridal.

The thing reacted fast, bucking and shifting and churning up the ice. The flames singeing the Lancer’s light eyebrows. It lunged forward at full speed moving like a slug across the ice, picking up speed. The Lancer saw the glint of the tip of the sword on the ice and pulled hard on the lance under it’s jaw. Pulling it right into its path. It tore right over it. The ragged blade ripping the soft underbelly open like a water balloon. A clear organic liquid spilling out.

The Lancer jumped off and watched it bob and weave back and forth as it kept it’s trajectory forward. It crashed through the wall of the icerink and collapsed on a soft cushion of furries.

-

Carpenter clenched his jaw, the sound of his gritted teeth was loud. Clinching and straining so hard it drew blood.

Blood dripped down his sword hand and it got too heavy all of a sudden and he dropped it into the sea of furry faces.

The coat was scrunched up around his hand and wrist getting warm and sodden with his own blood.

The Frenchman laughed and said “I guess your luck has run out, my friend.”

Carpenter’s head was down, eyes opening and closing. He heard her laughing, saw her face poking through the Frenchman’s legs. Sound coming and going around his head.

I think you’ve got a little more”. She said.

He smiled and raised his head looking the Frenchman dead in his eyes like a vengeful ghost. Blood dripping from his mouth.

He locked the Frenchman’s hand on the hilt of the sword with a vicelike death grip keeping the sword in place.

The frenchman’s smile dipped as he tried to pull away and realised he was stuck. He noticed the position of the blade. It was a clean stab straight through the shoulder.

Carpenter laughed as he saw he realised his gambit.

“That’s not possible”. He looked into those sunken eyes and said “You’d risk your life to get this close.” He breathed in and swallowed and said “What now?”

“Now we flip for it”

-

TJ was spent, he tried to scrabble to his feet but the ice got the better of him again and he fell. He crabbed backwards desperately as the furries started to scramble onto the ice through the hole in the ice rink wall.

“Shit shit shit!” TJ huffed as he scrabbled on all fours on the ice. The furries sliding and stumbling and crawling towards him.

The Lancer stopped and looked at TJ and then at Evergreen. Evergreen nodded stoicly at TJ.

The Lancer shrugged with a chinking metal noise and started to walk towards TJ. Stepping over a carpet of furries.

TJ was reaching the edge of the rink now, running out of ice to crawl across. His breath burning in his lungs, his digits numb. He leant his back against the ice rink wall breathing shallow watching as the carpet of furries edged ever closer. The Lancer surfing them and tossing them aside like stuffed animals.

TJ sighed, his luck pushed to the limits. “I guess this really is it.” He said. He closed his eyes “Be seeing you soon” He smiled.

“Sooner than you think” He heard a voice over his head say.

“Actually, I was thinking about my mom. But now you mention it…” He paused dumbstruck as the cogs started to turn and he looked up.

“Take my hand!” She shouted.

“Sunday?”

“Naw, I’m your fairy godmother naked hanging upside down by my feet, are you gonna grab my hand or not?” She screamed.

TJ blinked hard like he was looking at a unicorn, he could hardly take in what he was seeing. But it looked like Sunday hanging naked upside down over his head suspended by a rope made of other Sundays… who were also naked.

“Sure” He said as all the blood rushed to his cheeks.

He took her hand was whipped up into the air like Peter Pan in a school play. The other Sunday’s reeled in the rope of Sundays.

Before he knew it he was on the second floor balcony breathing heavily surrounded by naked green haired pixies all asking him if he was alright.

He looked around and got red covering his eyes.

“What the hell is going on? I thought you were dead” He shouted.

“I was” they all said in unison.

“Hey shut up for a minute” They all said again.

“Hey stop copying me” They all said.

“Stop that!”

“No you stop it!”.

“This is getting annoying”.

The Sunday that took TJ’s hand went over by a shoe store that had a red velvet curtain in the window. Her bare feet slapping on the parquet flooring. She threw a garbage can through the window and ripped the curtain down and wrapped it around her neck like a cape. She walked back over to TJ signalling for all the others to leave.

They all looked at eachother and nodded grimly and started to dissipate.

The Sunday in the red cape, looking like a punk little red riding hood came over and knelt by TJ’s side.

“You can open your eyes now”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” TJ said still not opening his eyes.

She clenched her jaw and her eyes got moist. She moved his hands away from his eyes and held them and cooed “I didn’t want you to think I was a freak.” She said, tears leaking from her face.

He opened his eyes and saw her crying. He touched her chin and then wiped her tears and said “I already thought you were a freak”. He smiled.

She smiled and let out a little laugh and punched him in the arm.

“You called him Adam” He paused and looked down. “You know that thing?”

“That thing is my brother.” She stopped to think and then snorted and wiped her nose with her cape.

“Your bro-“ He was interrupted by a giant metal lance tearing through the second floor balacony. Lodging itself in the roof of the shoe store.

The Lancer was getting impatient. The other Sundays surrounded him, naked and gritting their teeth. He batted the first few away like they were nothing but three more jumped on his back. More on his legs, holding him down like he was walking through cement again. Grinding to a bitter stalemate as his limbs got heavier and heavier.

The furries seemed only marginally interested in the Sundays. The Sundays fought them off without too much struggle. Naked green haired chicks beating the shit out of kids dressed as animals.

“Stop, just let me talk” The Sundays said to the Lancer. “Adam, let me help you!”

“I DON’T KNOW THAT NAME!” He screamed. A deafening crack and a sudden explosion vapourized the Sunday’s on top of him. Sending the Lancer hurtling backwards crashing through the ice rink wall.

-

“Jesus Christ, what is it now?” Rigby said looking over the balcony. “Zombie furfags, naked green haired chicks, cheese grater monsters, what next? The fucking easter bunny?” He said as he looked over the side.

Evergreen said nothing, just rubbing his temples and grinding his teeth.

-

Carpenter flipped the coin up in the air, dumbstruck the Frenchman looked up. Carpenter pulled him forward by the hand he had locked, the one holding onto the sword in his shoulder up to the hilt. Pulling him off balance towards the edge of the plank.

“Putan!” The Frenchman cried.

The boot knife Carpenter took from the police station shot out of his sleeve like it was on springs, like a magic trick. He pulled him close wrapping his dirty fingers around the handle and slicing his throat with a quick precise cut with the dagger tip of the knife. There was no blood, at first. The Frenchman looked at Carpenter and then down and then up and then there was a sound. A sound like wailing winter winds and a fine spray of pink blood. He held his throat and his eyes got wide and then smaller and smaller and he fell off the plank like a dead weight into the sea of furries below.

Carpenter panted and looked down and then across the plank. he grit his teeth and pulled the sword out slow. First by the handle but his arm wasn’t long enough so he grabbed the blade with both hands and eased it out all the way. Dropping it with a clink into the crowd of furries.

He tried to walk it off, he laughed and then made a noise like a wounded animal but he was walking the wrong way. His vision coming in and out. His depth perception was shot, the sea of furries rising and falling like a real sea.

“Come back” Laura called to him from the ship.

He looked back at her, his breathing was heavy and laboured, making wet sounds and coughing. He held the hole in his shoulder, it was wet, really wet.

A sudden light feeling, his eyes rolled back into his head, clouds ganging up on him in the sky. “Where did the roof go?” He said dreamily.

He felt like he was floating like he was falling onto a cloud, just going down. There was no up or down, standing or lying, just flying, soft and slow. A warm glow of light from the sun coming down and beaming him up onto some spaceship full of seventy WOW players.

Time stopped as he looked up and saw the ship above him or below him, he couldn’t tell which. It was just moving really slow and Laura was up on the deck looking up or down at him and she was saying something he couldn’t make out. Her voice echoed and slow and the words couldn’t reach him.

Something about ‘falling’ or ‘winning’, ‘living’ ’dying. It was probably really profound he thought.

The lights were going on and off like days going by the sun moving across the sky and then disappearing and then reappearing methodically. But it was just his eyes opening and closing, opening and closing and then closing and staying closed.

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