She Was Only A Clown Chapter 41

SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN is a special serialized novella presented in weekly installments every Saturday. Click here to read chapter 1, click here to read chapter 2, click here to read chapter 3, click here to read chapter 4, click here to read chapter 5, click here to read chapters 6 an 7, click here to read chapters 8 and 9, click here to read chapters 10 and 11, click here to read chapters 12 thru 14, click here to read chapters 15 and 16, click here to read chapters 17 and 18, click here to read chapters 19 thru 21, click here to read chapters 22 and 23, click here to read chapters 24 and 25, click here to read chapters 26 and 27, click here to read chapters 28 and 29, click here to read chapters 30 thru 32, click here to read chapters 33 and 34, click hereto read chapter 35, click here to read chapter 36, click here to read chapter 37, click here to read chapter 38, click here to read chapter 39, and click here to read chapter 40.


Chapter 41

Alpha-Prime-470421A had been a lush, green planet when it was discovered by a deep space mining rig hundreds of years before. In fact, its first settlers had nicknamed it Eden Prime for its vast fertile valleys and enormous blue oceans. It was a habitable planet ten times the size of Earth.

It was paradise.

Elwood knew this instantly, as though he’d always known it. He accessed Alpha-Prime’s history as easily as he could his own memories. If he’d wanted to, he could live the lives of each of the settlers, their children and grandchildren. He could drill down as far into the minutia of the planet as he desired.

Which of course meant the entity had eaten this planet and the genetic memory of every living thing on it.

But Elwood was standing on a world with no organic life. What happened to Eden Prime? Elwood had to know. Somehow this planet’s memory stored deep inside the entity’s mind was the key to the alien’s destruction. Elwood aimed to find out how.

For hundreds of years, Eden Prime flourished as one of the main arteries of intergalactic trade. Its vast resources were cultivated and shipped off-world creating huge profits for its leaders and industry giants.

In fact, it wasn’t industry or over-production, pollution or depletion that spelled the ultimate end to organic life on Eden Prime. After centuries worth of resource harvesting, the industrial community was able to create innovative and never before seen means with which to cultivate renewable resources.

Eden Prime was poised to become the very center of the galactic empire when Daron Bon Halfact, the ruler of sector 847916 where Eden Prime was positioned declared the planet one of seven worlds he was considering making his new permanent residence.

The entire galactic senate would have been moved to Eden Prime had those plans come to fruition. Unfortunately for Daron Bon Halfact, a space pirate marauder ship had managed to enter Eden Prime orbit undetected, boarded the royal star ship and assassinated the galactic ruler while he slept, taking control of the planet and its nearly unlimited network of resources.

The pirate commander, Thalos Rictorian, now with near infinite funds at his disposal, set in motion a galactic civil war which lasted nearly ten thousand years.

With each passing millennia, Thalos and his army relied more and more on cybernetic life extension technology to remain both alive and in power far longer than any ruling body the galaxy had ever witnessed.

Seven millennia into his rule Thalos, now half mad with digital brain functions infecting his organic parts, halted all production on Eden Prime that did not serve his enormous and unstoppable cyborg army.

He murdered the farming population in a single season for what he called crimes against technology after he had successfully removed stomachs from his cyborg soldiers, eleminating their need for organic food.

Billions died in famines that swept Eden Prime as Thalos culled the population further, replacing all human workers with androids and cyborgs in his titanic war factories. As the soil and oceans on the planet withered and died, Thalos had the surface of the planet replaced with solar panels which harvested the energy of Eden Prime’s sun into energy for his hell machines.

It was in his 9th millennia as emperor of sector 847916 that Thalos had the final vestigaes of organic flesh removed from his body and the bodies of his now entirely robotic army.

It was in the year 10,467 of his reign that he outlawed all organic material from the planet, and re-named it Thalos Prime in his own image.

The date of Elwood’s ethereal visit to Thalos Prime was 11,501. Elwood knew this because the entity knew this. Even as he accessed the history of Eden Prime, he kept a close eye on the events unfolding in front of him. After all, he was being show this particular space and time on Thalos Prime for a reason.

The robot 417 hurried with its many mechanical legs over to the shelf housing the ancient books. It cursed and worried the entire way, but did as it was told.

No I don’t know what’s inside these books, actually!” 417 said to the small spider bot, seeming to communicate with it telepathically. “Well, what do you expect me to do about THAT? HE’S the king of the Metal Battalion! If I disobey a direct command The High Order will have my servos served for breakfast!”

The spider-bot seemed to relent, allowing 417 to concentrate on selecting the correct tome from the massive shelf.

After a short time, 417 returned to the operating table with an enormous book, the face of which was covered with raised metallic runes.

What science has always gotten wrong about dark matter,” 917, the red-faced robot on treads said as it unlatched the book and opened it to its table of contents. “Is that it is not merely a mysterious force holding the universe together. No matter that they learned to harness its energies and use it for intergalactic travel. What they failed to realize,” the robot located the section of the book he was looking for, turned to the page and plugged into the book a series of wires with suction cups on the ends from one of its many hands. “is the true purpose of that matter. It is sentience. It is the divine spirit engine that drives all of us living beings, both organic and fabricated.”

A low chanting piped in from a set of speakers on 917’s back. The wires moved across the pages, the suction cups somehow lifting the words from the pages, translating them and speaking them through the robot’s body.

But the ancients knew. The flesh-bodies. The meat-machines. They understood the power of the dark matter. They knew how to open gateways and let its pure form in to the material realm.”

The spider-bot on 417’s shoulder began to shake and pace back and forth along the larger robot’s frame. “I know,” 417 said under its breath. “He’s gone mad. His obsession with organic life will be the death of us all.”

91765 gently set the mound of pulsing flesh on the steel table. More wires and tubes snaked out from its robotic limbs. These wires were tipped with long needles which penetrated the flesh, causing it to pulse more frequently.

Elwood watched with apprehension as a combination of 917’s chanting, electricity flowing from the needles and weird fluids pumped in from the tubes caused the meat mound to grow. Each pulse saw it gain significant mass until it was no longer small enough to fit in the robot’s hand.

After another moment it was larger than 917’s head. Another, it was almost as wide as the steel table on which it lay.

The whipping tendrils that Elwood had become all too accustom to slithered out of the sides of the meat, slapping at the table in frantic rhythm.

YES!” 917 cackled even as the chanting from his speakers continued. “After all these many centuries! My work! My destiny! My LEGACY is realized!”

The spider-bot on 417’s shoulder sprang to action. It dove for the table. Pincer-like claws emerged from its head like long teeth. It scrambled across the old book, snipping the wires reading the incantation, cutting off the chanting mid sentence.

What are you doing!?” 417 screamed, grabbing the cable connected to the smaller robot’s abdomen, yanking at the spider-bot in an effort to dislodge it from the table.

But a small flamethrower replaced the pincers in its mouth. Hot fire belched from its face, setting the book on fire as the spider-bot clamped its razor-sharp legs into the book’s pages to keep itself from being pulled away.

917 only laughed as the book burned. “It’s too late! Fate has chosen this world’s new master! The rein of cold steel is ended! Long live hot flesh!”

417 struggled to pull the spider-bot away as it leaped through the flames at 917’s face. The royal robot snatched it out of the air. As its knife-like legs slashed wildly in the air, the battle-damaged robot lowered the spider toward the whipping black flesh on the table.

Witness the power of flesh,” 917 said softly as the tendrils took hold of the spider bot, drawing it closer to the main body.

917 pulled his hand away before the flesh could grab it as well. The spider-bot’s glowing abdomen began to lose its brightness and the tendrils sank through the metal as though it were nothing more than thick liquid.

A moment later and the spider-bot’s husk broke in half, drained of all of its internal parts. Its legs shuddered and went still. The connecting cable broke free, sizzling at the end like it had been burned away. The glowing fluid inside spewed as 417 howled in pain, pulling the cable toward himself, cradling his dismembered part.

The flesh pile doubled in size again as it absorbed the remaining useless outer shell of the spider-bot. But it was far from finished. It’s lasso-like tendrils whipped about, snatching 417’s flailing, spewing cable out of the air and began to drag the damaged robot toward the table, adding new tendrils to its grasp with each passing second.

417 begged his royal master to save his life as 917 laughed maniacally, backing away from the table. Nearly half of 417’s large robotic frame was covered in tendrils thick as the cable attached to the helpless robot’s back when the bolted doors behind them exploded.

And Thalos himself stormed into the room.

***

Check back next week for chapter 42!

Psycho Spring Week 1: RobamaPocalypse


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Synopsis:

In a dystopian future where Barack Obama is lord and emperor of the only city left on earth after the zombie apocalypse, one young man must fight his way through a tournament pitting zombie against remote controlled zombie if he hopes to stop the evil, half-cyborg dictator from destroying Steel City and the rest of the fabled Obamamerica beyond.

Time traveling terrorists, giant robot zombies made of zombies, and Barack Obama like you’ve never seen him before are but a few of the twists and turns that make Robamapocalypse one of the weirdest, most action packed bizarro stories you’ll ever lay your unsuspecting eyeballs on. This election year, Barack Obama is a giant fucking robot.

Vampire Guts In Nuke Town Chapter 7

Vampire Guts in Nuketown was originally published in 2013. It is available to purchase in full via Kindle or paperback by clicking here. Before reading this chapter, catch up with chapter 0chapter 1chapter 2, chapter 3chapter 4chapter 5, and chapter 6.


Chapter 7

Guts knew it was far too late to save her. He only hoped there was still time to end her suffering. Just as he entered the cave, he heard his name called, and everything that made sense to him in this fucked up world came to an end.

At first, he thought he was hearing things, hallucinating from his extensive injuries and exhaustion. Perhaps from the massive dumps of adrenaline his body had been forced to feed his brain for the better part of the day. When he heard it again, his blood turned cold.

“Charles Bidmore,” the voice said. Clear as day.

The sound shook Guts to his core. No one knew his name; not anyone living. That name died when The Infestation took his family, took everyone he ever knew, took the entirety of civilization in the blink of an eye.

The voice had come from deep inside the cave. He stood still for a moment longer, dumbfounded, staring down the well-lit corridor in front of him.

Impossibility on top of impossibility. The voice he heard was human. There was no way a human was still alive down here, not in the heart of a vampire nest thousands strong. And yet… someone had called to him. Guts walked toward its source, down the long cavern, until he reached a sharp bend. He rounded the corner and lost all capacity for rational thought.

The scene before him made absolutely no logical sense. He was now inside a brightly lit white room. Its walls were plastic, the floors a nondescript cream-colored tile, and the drop ceiling contained harsh florescent light fixtures that were on. In front of him stood a white desk with two chairs placed in front of it. Across from him was a floor-to-ceiling mirror, showing him, mouth agape as he stared back at himself.

Guts was inside some impossible… office.

But more than that, he was standing inside an office seemingly built inside an underground cavern some two stories below the surface. This he could almost accept, however unlikely. What he could not accept was what sat behind the desk.

With its arms folded neatly across its chest, leaning back in a high-backed, white leather chair, was a vampire dressed in an immaculate white suit and red tie; the very same vampire with half its face burned off from their scuffle up in the motel room.

This was madness, pure and simple.

“Please, Mr. Bidmore,” the vampire said in a snobbish, aristocratic voice. “Have a seat. You look like hell warmed over.” The creature motioned with a hairy black-taloned hand toward one of the empty chairs in front of the desk.

Guts crashed down hard into the chair. His body felt like lead, the back of his neck pulsing harder than ever. Each beat exploded in his ears. Thump. Thump. Thump! He gripped the sides of his head, knowing finally that the madness of this radioactive world had closed in on him.

Scarface leaned forward in his chair, elbows on the desk, hands clasped together, forming a steeple, his lipless, fanged mouth gently touching the tips of his taloned fingers.

“Now, Mr. Bidmore, I’m sure you’re wondering just what in the blue blazes is going on here. And rightfully so.”

Guts looked up at the creature, mouth hanging slack-jawed, disbelief painted on his face.

The vampire continued. “I assure you this will all make perfect sense in short order.”

Guts opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then started again. “How the FUCK are you sitting here in a fucking three piece suit, talking to me like English god damn royalty??? And how the fuck do you know my name? No one knows my name!”

“The short answer, Mr. Bidmore? The short answer is very simple. I am here, like this, speaking to you, because you willed it so.”

Guts stared blankly at the creature, then spoke. “You wanna know what I think, Fanger?”

“Certainly, Mr. Bidmore.”

“I think I’m a god damn raving lunatic, sitting on the floor of a vampire hive, having a polite conversation with an imaginary talking Fanger, just waiting for another one of those god forsaken breeder bitches to waddle her fat ass in here to pump me full of bloodsucker babies!”

“Come now, my dear Mr. Bidmore. I promise you, nothing of the sort is going to happen. Not now that you’re… aware.”

“Aware of what? And how the fuck do you know my name???” Guts was panting. Sweat poured from his face, his hands shaking.

“One question at a time, Mr. Bidmore. I know more than simply your name. I know everything about you. I know that before the plague you humans call The Infestation, you were a family man. A wife and two daughters, yes? You were a paramedic in San Diego, California, when such a place still existed. You earned your nickname Guts when a gangbanger that had been shot jumped off the gurney, gutted you with a knife the police had failed to find on his person, and proceeded to strangle you with your own intestines. Had you not been such an… imposing physical specimen, you’d have died.

“I know that during the final wave of The Infestation, when society collapsed, your wife and children were mutilated and left for dead. By the time you were able to navigate the chaos and return home, your wife had turned. She was eating your youngest when you burst through the front door, yes? You had to kill your own wife, Mr. Bidmore. And your oldest daughter; when she changed, you murdered her as well. That’s how you found out you were immune to the vampire virus, correct? You let your daughter bite you, but you didn’t change. You couldn’t join your family, so you murdered them to put them out of their misery.”

Guts stared at the paradox before him. In a small voice, he asked, “How?”

“How I know these things, how I, a feral beast motivated only by the primal urge to feed and to kill, can speak to you in this manner, is because you willed it so.”

“I don’t understand,” Guts said, slowly.

The creature stood, pushed its chair in, and began pacing with its hands clasped behind its back.

“What if I told you that all of this was your creation? The Infestation, the vampires, the nuclear mutations, all of it. What if the cause of The Infestation was not a virus, but a thought in your own mind? What if I told you, Mr. Bidmore, that you are God incarnate, experiencing life through living flesh, and you’ve just become aware of it?”

Guts sat for a moment longer before standing.

“I’d say you’d better be satisfied with that piece of shit story, ‘cause it’s the last one you’re ever gonna tell, bloodsucker!”

In a flash, Guts was on the vampire, slamming its head against the white wall. He gathered the beast up by the collar of its expensive suit.

“Mr. Bidmore!” the vampire squealed.

“Charles Bidmore is dead! You fang fuckers killed him! My name is Guts! Do you hear me? Fucking Guts!”

Guts choked the monster harder, causing its eyes to bulge. Weakly, it choked out words. “I-It’s true, Guts! You are the living God! You c-created this Hell on… Earth! You can kill me if you wish. I live only to serve you, my lord!”

Guts dropped the vampire and turned his back to it. His neck issued jolts of pain through his body. He reached up to discover that a bulge had formed just beneath the base of his skull.

“I’m God, huh?”

The beast stood, smoothing out its suit. It straightened its tie. “Yes, Guts. You chose to come back to this world, to end it for the grievous sins it has inflicted upon its people. You chose to take the form of a man to witness its end firsthand. You chose to wipe your own memory so that the experience would be pure, so it would be just. You brought me with you, so that I could guide you back to the heavenly paradise from whence you came.”

“And how,” Guts asked, “are you supposed to do that?”

The vampire looked nervous now. Glowing, opaque sweat beaded on its brown, wrinkled forehead.

“Sacrifice, my Lord.”

“Sacrifice?” Guts turned toward the creature.

“Yes, my Lord. You must perform a blood sacrifice. You must take the life of one you love to show your belief in your divinity, for death is not the end, not when you will it.”

“Everyone I love is already dead.”

Scarface gulped. “Only if you will it so, Lord. If you want it badly enough, someone you love will walk through that same door you entered.”

“It’s the eyes, you know.”

“Beg pardon, Lord?”

“It’s the eyes I hate the most.” Guts grabbed the beast by its ugly face, wrenched open its left eye, pulled out his knife, and stabbed down hard, impaling the red orb on the end of the sharp blade. The monster wailed in agony as Guts turned the knife, scraping the frontal lobe of its brain. He pushed it hard to the left, poking through the beast’s other eye from the back. Guts smacked the handle, pushing the eyeball and a torrent of black blood out of its socket, stuck to the knife like a piece of meat on a cabob. The vampire slumped to the floor, dead.

“There’s your fucking sacrifice.”

Guts wiped his hands on the ruined, brackish suit that only moments ago had been speckled white. He turned to walk back the way he’d come, back into the tomb of dead mutants, when he froze.

What stood in the doorway caused Guts to stumble backward and grab hold of the desk behind him. After everything that had happened today, this was an amazing feat. In the doorway stood Shelly and Nick, quietly watching the scene unfold, bemused smiles on their faces. Faces totally free of trauma. Not a scratch adorned them. They stepped into the room. Shelly spoke first.

“He was right, you know.” She smiled again, no sign of the ruined body, the torn face.

Impossibility on top of impossibility topped with paradox.

Guts looked at her, confused.

She continued. “You really are God here. This is your world, Guts. You made it. And we are here to serve you.” She dropped to her knees before Guts and unbuttoned his pants.

Guts’ head reeled. “How…? This… all of this… makes… no sense.”

“Scarface told you, silly boy. We exist because you will it so. You can kill us and resurrect us as many times as you want. Your wish is our desire.” She pulled his cock out of his pants and swallowed its length to its root.

Nick spoke next as he walked over to stand next to his sister.

“Hey bro,” he said from two mouths on his cheeks. “No hard feelings, right?” He pulled his dick out and began masturbating in his sister’s face.

Guts let out a maniacal laugh. All traces of sanity were gone. He was freefalling through the abyss of madness. “No hard feelings, right!?” Guts cackled another insane laugh. “Sorry I threw you down that shaft! Ahahahahaha!!!”

Nick dribbled pre-cum across the bridge of Shelly’s nose, causing her to spike out, once again. She smiled around Guts’ thickness as she continued to pleasure him.

“Don’t apologize,” Nick said. “You are my lord and master. I live only to serve you.” He reached down and unsheathed Guts’ knife from his boot. “And I’ll die for you as many times as you wish it.” He put the knife to his throat, slicing it slowly. Blood streamed down his chest onto his cock, acting as an obscene lubricant as he continued to work its length with his free hand.

As the blade crossed his esophagus, Nick began choking, sickly wheezing through the gaping hole in his throat. He ejaculated across Shelly’s cheek and mouth just before he collapsed to the ground, dead again.

Guts wept now, crying out in big sobs.

Shelly took him out of her mouth, her brother’s semen dripping from her lips. “Don’t cry, sire. This will all be over soon. Kill me and you can return to your Heaven. You can transform this place into anything you want. You can live with your family again there. Your wife and little girls. Or you can make things the way they were before The Infestation, just go on living like it never happened, even wipe this whole memory from your mind once again. Bliss, Lord. Just kill me and it’s all yours.”

She pried the knife from Nick’s dead fingers and handed it to Guts.

“Do not fear death, my Lord. This is the beginning of forever! Let me show you.”

She took his cock back into her mouth, working him with both hands, bringing him closer to climax.

Guts’ eyes rolled in his head. He grabbed Shelly by the hair. She lifted his hand to her throat. He began screaming as she used his hand to saw through her tiny neck.

He came in her mouth as her body fell limp to the floor. He felt the lightness of her severed head as the final ropes of his orgasm blasted down her gaping throat onto the floor.

He raised her head up to meet his gaze, but he was no longer holding Shelly’s head. It was her face, cut off and covering the severed head of a Pog.

“Woooop! Woooooooop!” it said.

Guts dropped it and backed up against the wall. The corpse of Scarface stood slowly. Eyeless and covered in gore, it reached behind its head and… unzipped it.

“Woooop!” it said as it peeled its true Pog body out of the ruined suit of vampire skin. “Wooooooop!”

Nick stood next. “Woop!” It peeled the fake human body from its squat form. “Woooooop!”

Guts screamed again. Suddenly, he was aware of the painful, pulsating lump on the back of his neck. This time he felt something, just under the skin. He raised the knife and violently hacked at his neck. He dug his fingers into the bloody mess and found… a zipper.

He pulled it up, feeling his head and face fall against his chest. Turning to the mirror hung against the far wall, he saw his own hideous Pog face staring back at him.

He tried to scream again, but all he heard come out of his wide, silly mouth was, “Wooooop! Woooop! WOOOOOOP!”

He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was not in Heaven.

***

What he saw made no sense at all (but little did after what he’d just witnessed, so he didn’t get upset about it). Madness has a way of calming the nerves. He opened his eyes and saw, not his own face as a Pog staring at him, but instead a grimy ceiling. The motel room ceiling he’d woken up in that morning.

A throbbing pain in his extremities caused him to look down and see a vampire latched to each of his wrists and both of his ankles, eagerly feasting on his life’s blood.

He tried to turn his head, but found that something was holding it firmly in place. Panic finally seized him when he became fully aware of his situation. He was disoriented, yes, but his memories came flooding back into him like water through a broken levy.

No, a voice said inside his head: the voice of Scarface the vampire. Go back to sleep. Dream of your family. Dream of anything you want!

He closed his eyes, and Karen was there. And the girls. They waited for him at the front door of their house. Human. Safe. Little Emily waved to him.

“No!”

False memories. He opened his eyes. He was back in the room, restrained, still being fed on like a living steak. His eyes sagged again. He bit his tongue as hard as he could. He bit until he tasted blood. The pain brought him back to full consciousness.

He remembered everything.

***

Check back next month for the next exciting chapter of Vampire Guts In Nuke Town, or click here to buy the full novel via Kindle or paperback on Amazon.com.