Chapter 16

“Lay down your weapons!” Proximia’s voice bellows angrily out from all around us; echoing loudly off the metal walls of the large chamber we all find ourselves standing in.

I turn to face the big stage, looking for the green demon only to find her perched atop the large platform with her fists clenched and her eyes glaring down upon us. She is absolutely pissed and this worries me a little.

“Put your weapons down now!” she screams her indignation at us this time.

I look to my left and then to my right. Surrounding me are hundreds of blood soaked men and women who are all trying to make up their minds.

Obey or rebel.

It seems we might have a unique opportunity on our hands and none of us want to squander it. Finally, we’re armed and have our demonic overlords outnumbered. There are no faceless guards anywhere to be seen which means there is no protection for the group of blue and green she-demons standing before us. If we could take them out, kill them, we might earn our freedom. This might be our best chance to achieve our collective goal and, based on the hopeful looks everyone is giving, I’m quite sure I’m not the only one thinking this way.

“Fuck you bitch!” someone yells out.

A loud whooping follows; it breaks out from within our ranks. Every man and woman raises their weapons and starts yelling at the top of their lungs. I too join in and scream in rage at the injustice shown to us. I want nothing more than to charge the stage and kick the shit out of our captors.

Proximia glares back at us with a dejected stare. She shakes her head in shame and it’s a look I truly relish. I love seeing her in this state of defeat and I want to prolong her misery so I start walking towards her, practically giddy at what’s transforming here.

We are going to win!

We are going to get our revenge!

We are going to kick some serous ass!

But of course, this is all too good to be true, for just as we start to charge I notice everyone’s moon head pieces begin to glow orange.

“What the hell,” I think to myself but it’s too late. A loud, ear piercing scream explodes from within my head, forcing me to the ground, with my hands clutched firmly over my bleeding ears. I try in vain to block out the painful noise, but it’s no use. The sound keeps penetrating deeper and deeper into my skull. It feels like someone is sticking a knife through each temple and is twisting the blade back and forth, back and forth.

“Fuck me!” I’m screaming in pain, twisting about on the cold metal floor. I want to die now, to end this misery. I will do anything to make the pain go away.

And then, just like that, it’s gone.

I rub my temples a bit but the pain has evaporated; almost as if it was never there. So I stand up slowly and look around. It seems everyone else has just undergone the same experience. Our collective, revengeful energy seems to have also evaporated equally with the escaping pain.

The mass look of defeat on everyone’s faces is absolutely demoralizing. I actually feel sick to my stomach, realizing these assholes have power over us with or without their monster army. They can inflict paralyzing pain on us at a moments notice. How are we supposed to fight against that?

“Now put your weapons in the nearest bin!” Proximia orders from the safety of her perch. “Or else be subject to more punishment!”

With that several huge doors open from within the four surrounding walls and, through them march dozens and dozens of faceless guards, followed by numerous metal bins. In a matter of minutes our ranks are infiltrated with these menacing warriors.

“This is your last chance,” Proximia sneers. “Do it now or face the consequences!”

I look over at the nearest metal crate. It’s been rolled up right next to me only I can’t spot any wheels from underneath it. It appears to be floating, but who gives a shit about that. More pressing is the signal of surrender we’ve just given as a species. A bunch of defeated men march dejectedly towards the bins and start dropping various weaponry into it. This act of cowardice hits me hard, but I know there’s no viable alternative.

Each dropped weapon makes a loud clang or thud and sadly each noise, to me, feels like another nail is being driven into our coffin. This moment might have been our best chance at victory and we gave it up without any resistance at all.

What does that say about us as?

“You’ll never take me alive!” a reckless man screams out. He charges the stage with three of his friends following suit.

I smile at their enthusiasm but its short lived for unfortunately these sorry sons of bitches don’t get very far.

“Kill them!” Proximia calls out.

Two faceless demons, standing by the stage, obey immediately by pointing their rods at the charging entourage and discharging a blast of energy that blows the four men to pieces.

Chunks of flesh and blood cover everyone close by and several of the bystanders call out in disgust. A few start gagging, while others throw up.

“If the rest of you don’t surrender your weapons RIGHT NOW, we will kill each and every woman standing here. Not only that, but we will make you all watch as we painfully execute them, ever so slowly, one by one, before your very eyes!” the green demon is not playing. She’s mad as hell and none of us doubt her resolve. We all believe she’ll deliver on her threat if we push her to it.

I start looking around once more, but this time I find myself searching for my wife or for Allison or for any lady that I might recognize. It occurs to me that this is the first time we’ve actually been in the same room with members of the opposite sex since this whole affair began. I look at a woman standing right next to me only I don’t recognize her. She is wearing a similar outfit to mine only she has a second wrap around her chest where mine is bare.

I look past her and try to find someone familiar. But, as I spot nothing more than stranger after stranger, sadness overtakes me.

Susan is dead. I killed her at the farm.

This painful realization nearly knocks me off my feet. A tear falls from my eye and a lump forms in my throat. I ended the life of the lady I swore an oath to defend ... till death due us part.

Though we had our differences, her death fills me with a deep depression. I’m going to miss her. Maybe she meant more to me than I realized. Life feels more hallow now, emptier without her somehow.

I think back to that moment ... I was so happy to see her at the farm, to make love to her but then she went and got all monstrous. She tried to kill me but I killed her first. Was it really my fault? Why did she change? Did they do this to?

“Yes, they did!” My inner voice screams! “They took her... they made you kill her. Don’t blame yourself!”

I shake my head but I know I’m right. It would be easy to wallow in self pity, to blame myself, to become the perpetrator here when really these demonic bitches were to blame. They are playing with powers even they can’t control. Their cruelty made me kill my very own wife. These assholes have to be held to account!

They have to pay for what they’ve done!

A rage is building up inside me, and I’m happy for it. Anger gets me going and makes me react with a reckless abandonment if necessary. Fuck it if I die ... I’d rather be killed in battle than to die slowly in one of their perverted games.

I turn around with a newfound resolve. I am going to rush the stage and kill as many as I can before they put me down. I may not make it far but at least I’ll go out in a blaze of glory. I got this bat and I’ll club the shit out of anyone that gets in my way.

I tighten my grip and scan the room to find the quickest route to the stage, but instead I spot her and it stops me short.

Impossible!

It’s Susan. There’s no doubt about it. She’s standing off in the distance, amongst the crowd. I rub my eyes. Is this a mirage? I crane my neck to get a better look, to be sure and fuck me, it’s really her. She looks good, all things considered; through she’s covered in blood. Her white skirt and wrap are mostly red but she doesn’t appear to be injured or hurt in any serious way.

How is this possible? None of it makes sense ... I killed her, just as sure as the sun shines. But then, how then is she still standing and breathing?

If I didn’t kill her at the farm did I end someone else’s life?

No. It was Susan. I know it.

I killed her with a knife.

And then it hits me. Perhaps this is the true power of Hell; its ultimate torture. Maybe I’m doomed to kill or be killed only to come back to life and relive this torment over and over again? My resilience in surviving might be used against me. Maybe this blessing, this longing for life, will become my final curse as living will now be reduced to nothing more than inflicting or receiving pain at the hands of others living in this same realm of Hell.

If so, what in the world did I do, in the real world, to warrant such drastic punishment? How could a loving God condemn me to such a demented existence? How could he possibly permit any of his creation to undergo pain and torture to this degree, in this unending and eternal fashion?

Why has God forsaken me?

There are more questions than answers running through my head, and each one is more morbid than the last. I’d heard countless sermons preached, in my lifetime, on the dangers of Hell. Each with the same theme; how God didn’t desire to send anyone to the Lake of Fire, but His hand would be forced to if we didn’t repent and believe.

I thought it all bullshit, until today.

Fuck, why didn’t I pay more attention in church? I could have taken the Bible more seriously, but honestly all that religious mumbo jumbo did so little to help me in the real world. Why was I expected to give it more time than that?

I always felt like God had turned his back on me so I figured I’d simply return the favour. I didn’t curse or disrespect Him to His face, but I also didn’t give Him any more attention than required. Let’s just say that I didn’t put more than the minimum in the offering plate on any given Sunday.

It’s no secret I grew up an orphan and was given to a couple shithead guardians who weren’t fit to care for their own kids, let alone anyone else’s. I never knew love or compassion, just work and punishment in their household. I was cold, hungry and scared on most days so how could I possibly be expected to love or worship a being who subjugated me to such an existence? How is it fair to expect this from me?

I guess, in the back of my mind, I’d always assumed God was the bigger man, who’d understand my predicament and cut me some slack for my callous response. I figured He’d simply turn the other cheek to my disrespect and give me a pass; call it even if you know what I mean.

Well, for shit’s sake ... I guess I was way off on that assumption! This guy, this benevolent being, could certainly hold a grudge as evidenced by the extraordinary sentence I’m now serving for my slights and crimes.

Contrary, I could just imagine those righteous Bible thumping, church going saints living it up in Heaven right now while the rest of us schmucks had to grind it out here in Hell. Those ass-hats are probably drinking and partying, without a care in the world, hooting it up with Jesus and the angels while the rest of us are forgotten, left to be tortured day after day without reprieve at the hands of Satan and his demons.

How is this fair in any sense of the word?

“This is your last warning!” Proximia shouts once more and I’m instantly snapped back to the task at hand.

All around me I hear the high pitched screams only a lady can make. To my horror each and every woman within eyesight has fallen to the floor, with hands cupped over their ears, thrashing about in pain on the floor. Though I can’t hear the piercing sound, I know exactly what they’re going through.

Odd though, that none of us men can hear the sound right now, nor do anything to relieve the women of their pain. We can only look on, reduced to chumps who have to watch the fairer sex be tormented at our feet.

“Surrender your weapons or else they will die!” Proximia says.

This is not the time to resist, but rather to surrender. None of us have the stomach to watch our women suffer.

I turn my attention back to the bat still held in my hand, as I cannot stand to watch the girls any longer. I study the crude weapon and decide there’s no way I can keep it. I’ve already risked Susan’s life once today and there’s no way I’ll put any of them, especially Susan, in further danger if I can at all help it.

I won’t make Satan’s job any easier.

So I march hurriedly towards the nearest bin and wait my turn. Several men are crowding the area and there’s little room for more of us. The women are still screaming in pain. This makes us all move a little faster. We are well motivated to get this done quickly. I finally get close enough to drop my club in and it lands casually on top of the heap of discarded weaponry. I work my way from the space to allow others to do the same.

It takes a few moments but we get it done.

Gone are the female shrieks and screams, their pain has ended but so too has the men’s collective will to resist. We all complied with the demonic orders, though none of us are truly happy about it. Seems these beasts know exactly how and where to apply pressure in order to make us subservient.