Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 14: Plots and Plans
Part 5: His Satanic Majesty’s Request (Revision 4)
Part 5: His Satanic Majesty’s Request (Revision 4)
thorwald property. BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM pounds Barney SATAN! like a cyborg piledriver. The guitars roar and scream and howl like demons being tortured for the Devil’s pleasure. Eddie Evil, self-infected vampire, growls and yowls in some infernal dialect of the Unknown Tongue.
The music: hate metal, the sound of the criminal underworld; the style: teknoDeth, 300+ bpm piledrive at volumes beyond deafening. No hate metal band more infernal than Gang: Eddie Evil screaming vocals, Elvis and Jesus Hitler torturing guitars, Sikki Sykopath on subsonic bass, Barney SATAN! on drums going BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM.
Below them in the arena, maddened pit bulls rip each other to bloody shreds. Gangland dogfighters cram their pits with steroids, methamphetamine, canine growth hormone, and PCP to turn them into rage-powered murder machines soon to be turned against the Man. The supervillain called the Clown, twelfth of his lineage, presides over this canine Tournament like a depraved Roman emperor. For the leader of all Klownz has come to rally the gangs of North Cascadia to unite to fight the hordes of holy warriors protecting the Party Central Committee and their King. Vince Corson of the Moral Enforcers used his gangland connections to summon him, for the priest of Satan who will restore the lost manhood of sixteen woman-slain Enforcers through the sacrifice of pious virgins, Muslim and Christian. Oliver, Frank, and Christie are not the least bit pleased. “You’re coddling our enemies, Vinnie,” says Oliver.
Corson screams in his face, “I don’t care, Ollie! It’s the only way, or America’s manhood is lost, and our Empire with it!”
“Dead dogs and maidens,” Frank sneers. “Why don’t you just kill the bitches who killed your men!”
“You look like a faggot, Frankie. Maybe I should kill you.”
The canine gladiators fight to the death below as the gangsters crowding the arena scream for blood—the blood of Jesus America and his Party fanatics. When the all-dog Tournament ends, the real show begins: soon the priest of Satan will bring his sacrificial blade for the two beautiful naked Arab virgins, Muslim Saida and Christian Sultana, now trembling in the dungeon behind the arena, clinging to each other, praying to God...
yesterday... Bart, Beck, Rex, and Lance stand over the prostrate Ibrahim sisters begging for their lives when Stan and Vince burst in. Bart asks, “Kill ’em now?”
Stan grins evilly. “Naw, we got better plans.”
Team Bremelo attack, their enemies try to use the sisters as human shields, Saida begs Sana to get away, Sana flees in tears...
Stan grins evilly. “Naw, we got better plans.”
Team Bremelo attack, their enemies try to use the sisters as human shields, Saida begs Sana to get away, Sana flees in tears...
Shira sneaks unnoticed to slip firecrackers into the Klownz’ weapons. Their excitement and Gang’s ear-shattering hate-metal apocalypse distract their attention away from the threat assembling beneath the shaking arena stands, but they can’t hide the heartrending cries of dying dogs...
catalina. When the twins’ grandfather gave them the white puppy, it was love at first sight; she grew up with them, outlasted all their romantic flings, helped Shira get over the loss of Kira, even learned to like cats...
Sporting AR-equipped hoverboard helmets and hard soundproof masks, nudefighter gloves and boots, nothing else: Shira, Jennifer, Daisy, Melody, and the girl with the violet eyes infiltrate beneath the platform as Team Bremelo’s advance guard. “Why are we attacking them naked?” asks Melody.
Jennifer answers, “Wet skin’s hard to hold.”
Shira contradicts her. “Gangsters are macho animals. Fanservice is our deadliest weapon.”
“Don’t confuse her.”
Lars appears in their HUD sporting the Slasher Hunters’ pragmatic uniform of black slacks, long-sleeved shirt, winter cap, and fighting boots and gloves. “Shira, are you sure about this plan?”
“Trust me.” She winks; he disappears. She fingers her Go-Yo impatiently.
Daisy asks, “Why are we here?”
“To rescue Sana’s sisters,” Jennifer replies.
“Really?”
“Any Corporate is morally questionable at best. But to become a High Corporate, one must commit an unforgivable act. Whoever masterminded yesterday’s attack wants to sacrifice Sana’s sisters to Satan.,” the nameless girl purrs. “Me, I’m waiting to show the devil man my love.” She caresses her naked katana.
“Then we better crash their party stat,” Shira says.
Rob arrives wearing clothes in ninja black. “So when do we begin?”
The hatemusic stops. The arena crew clean up the blood and scattered pieces of dismembered dogs. The rattle and rumble of the stands add bass and percussion to the loud male roar of the assembled gangsters. Lord of the Ceremony: The Clown XII, Communist-killing super soldier gone rogue, founder of the Killen Jokerz, steps up sporting overalls over his hypermuscled body and his infamous monster-clown tattoos on his face and bald head to face the legions of crime. He holds out his arms; the assembled gangsters roar their approval like Spartans. He thrusts forth his rigid arm, fist clenched in the gladiators’ salute; the Klownz thrust their arms up, hands in the devil-horns salute, and chant the name of Satan. Then he thrusts both arms out to his sides and then down; the Klownz fall silent. “Warriorrrrrs! Today is our day! The day of power! First we take the city! Then we take the state! Then we take the Empire! Then the world is ours! Klowwwwwnz!” The Klownz answer with a deafening roar which resolves into the chant of “Satan! Satan! Satan!”
Jennifer comments, “Their think they’re revolutionaries.”
The violet-eyed girl sneers, “Just another faction.”
Shira smirks. “Just another random-factor sink.” Jennifer hands Shira her helmet “What—”
“Immediate business.” Jennifer blows her a kiss and leaves.
Above them, a herd of Klownz carry the stone Satanic altar onto the platform. At Peck’s signal, the B team take their positions: nudefighters Brandi, Marina, Arisa, and Akimi; dressed as gangsters: Rob, Connor, Kio, and Cory. Jennifer finds her at last: the redheaded slut she loved when they were at war...
2013... Blondie’s squad wait to ambush the Russians coming to kill them. They can hear them quietly step—they’re too close—they come out and shoot—five Russians dead
—but they too are naked girls, child soldiers like themselves. Blondie tells the redheaded squad commander she killed the girl she loved without malice, and expected her to do the same. Their squads bond; they become lovers—
—side by side they massacre bloodthirsty screaming jihadis—they make love as much as they can: in hiding places, in pools of blood, on the mountains of corpses they create—
—but they too are naked girls, child soldiers like themselves. Blondie tells the redheaded squad commander she killed the girl she loved without malice, and expected her to do the same. Their squads bond; they become lovers—
—side by side they massacre bloodthirsty screaming jihadis—they make love as much as they can: in hiding places, in pools of blood, on the mountains of corpses they create—
“Slutsky. Figures.” Irina gasps in shock—the gaudy-suited mobster who owns her turns to shoot what he sees—Jennifer blocks his gun arm: “Only she gets to kill me.”
“I kill anyone I—”
Irina points her own gun in his face. “No, I to kill her.” She points it at Jennifer’s forehead. Jennifer leans into it, smiles, silently mouths the words I love you. Irina smiles back and tries not to cry. In a flash Jennifer glances down at his torso. Irina nods.
Irina shoots Slutsky in the groin.
The mobster bends over, clutches his wound, stares at her in shock both horrified and hateful. “Focking bitch...” She shoots him between the eyes; he falls backwards, twitches, gurgles—she drops the gun, throws herself into Jennifer’s arms, and kisses her violently.
The roar becomes deafening when the priest of Satan makes his epiphany before them at last, clad in sparkling vestments woven from emerald, ruby, and sapphire, crowned with a feathered and horned demon’s mask. Burly Klownz bring in the two struggling, sobbing young beauties, overcome with terror at the fate that faces them before the altar and with shame at their nakedness. The nameless girl nods; she, Rob, and Melody climb up the platform to its secret doors. She eyes the priest, smiles in anticipation, caresses the hilt of her katana. Jennifer and Irina are surprised to find Scotty and Lucy tied up in the Ibrahim sisters’ cell (Lucy: “Help! They’ve gone crazy!”); Jennifer has Irina shoot the lock.
Saida struggles and prays as she is tied to the altar to the chant of “Satan! Satan! Satan! Satan!” Beneath the stands, the Bremeloes sneak toward the stage; Leila and Rob then slip into the shadows nearest the altar, in position to strike. Jennifer has Connor and Arisa sneak Scotty and Lucy out to the Slasher Hunters’ van; Irina refuses to leave with them, so Jennifer lets her stay.
The priest raises the sacrificial knife. Saida stops struggling, closes her eyes, and silently prays for God to save her with a miracle. The criminal crowd pump their fists and chant Satan’s name louder and faster. The priest, amplified over the arena’s PA system, intones, “Accursed virgin of Allah, I offer thee in sacrifice to the powers of Hell, to curse the Leper Messiah and GUCK!—” A katana blade suddenly emerges blood-drenched and dripping through his chest. He looks down in shock at the ninja sword now drinking the blood from his heart.
His assassin slips the sword out. Dying, he spins around to see his murderer. Behind him, wielding the dripping katana left-handed, grinning at him in wicked triumph—Leila Shelley? He stares down at her in horror and weakly protests: “You?”
With one swing of the sword, the girl with the violet eyes cuts off his head and upraised arms. Head, arms, and blade fall to the stage floor; the corpse spurts a stream of blood, gurgles, collapses over the nude girl, twitching till its remaining life drains away and it moves no more. She licks the blood off the blade of her sated sword. Stan, Vince, and countless gangsters gasp in collective horror.
Oliver laughs.
The crowd of Klownz storm the stage to try to kill her. She kicks the corpse at the Klownz, slashes Saida free, runs with her back; Melody takes her place to Repulse the horde and electrokinetically set off the firecrackers; Rob carries Sultana to safety; Shira tricks the gangsters into shooting and stabbing each other. Mercenary guards try to shoot them only to be mowed down by rifle-wielding Peck and Brandi at the head of a small force of Bremeloes and Slasher Hunters; Brandi, Cory, Akimi, and Connor whisk them out to the waiting vans. Bodyguards and Melodia management hurry the band off the property.
“Leilaaaa!” Stan wrestles his Colt 1911 .45 from its holster to shoot her. She flicks a swastika shuriken into his hand. Kio grabs him from behind and backdrops him hard onto the wooden floor. Vince runs at her screaming madly with Oliver’s shovel; she picks up Jesus Hitler’s abandoned guitar and smashes his face, knocking him down to the ground.
Gangsters and mercenaries battle to the death where dogs fought and died. Shira and the Shelley twins go down to the pit bull pens and shoot them open. Drug-maddened fighting dogs speed out the gates and rip at anything that moves. Behind the pens, a long-haired and winter-capped slacker girl cries out, “Help! Get us out of here!” She and her two male companions are bound seated with duct tape; the men are reduced to helpless grunting by the tape holding their mouths shut.
Oliver’s latest point man, a sword-wielding Nikoniko Gumi slasher called Koroshi Oniroku, stands in their way; he charges them with bloodcurdling kiai to tear them all to shreds; in a single movement, the nameless girl whips out her katana, cleanly cuts off his head, sheathes her sword again. The headless bleeding monster slams into the opposite wall, bounces off, lands on the floor thrashing like a gasping dying fish for over a minute until the body realizes its head is gone and falls still. Irina shoots the lock; Bremeloes rush in to carry them out of their cage, through the stench and filth of the dog pens, off the property to the vans.
Sudden inspiration hits the nameless girl: she rearranges the room’s rigged lighting to resemble a fashion shoot, rearranges the security cameras to her liking, strips the clothes off the dead Jap like a reptile’s superfluous skin and throws them away; she takes out her phone, takes control of the cameras, poses the corpse like a woman bending over backward, picks up his head, pins it in his hands, puts it on his crotch to make it look like he’s fellating his own corpse, and shoots.
Irina gestures Jennifer to follow her; they run together back to the stage. Jennifer sees Klownz and mercs dead all around, killing each other, oblivious to the fire that has spread from the pit to the stands. Suddenly Irina kisses her with the frustrated passion of two years apart. Jennifer protests, “No, we can’t—”
“Yes we must! Here! Now!” Irina drops to her knees to suck her breast hard—soon they’re rolling together, locked 69, attacking each other’s cunts with hungry mouths, love and terrorism fusing in plain view—Shira and her nameless lover see them and join them on stage to lock cunts in the frenzy of the moment—and in front of the lovers making love with destruction, the Clown dances his death in front of the altar, impaled with Elvis Hitler’s guitar, flailing and shouting to the feedback accompanied by a chorus of dying gangsters adding their moans and screams to the girls’.
The arena goes up like tinder into a raging blaze that consumes dead dogs, dead gangsters, and the stage where the priest of Satan lies dead and headless in a boiling pool of his own blood, and the Clown lies next to him prone, a guitar neck sticking straight up in fascist salute out of his back like a vampire’s stake, dead eyes staring blindly in mute accusation as the flames race toward him and leap up his giant motionless form; by then the girls have had their pleasure and leave with the Bremeloes and Hunters into the night. Oliver, Christie, and Frank watch the destruction from outside, Oliver already on the phone at Christie’s request to call his insurance agent. Defeated and humiliated by girls yet again, their dead comrades’ Manhood forever obliterated, Stan and Vince flee for their lives into the woods.
bangor jail. Shira: “We rescued innocent civilians from criminals bent on homicide, something we’re licensed to do.”
Jennifer: “Aren’t dogfights illegal without a license?”
The girl with the violet eyes: “We got what we wanted, they got what they deserved.”
Angela: “Are you willing to give the Chinese and the Caliphate a victory right when your own Party leadership come to town?”
Shira: “Moral Enforcers shouldn’t play with infernal powers. If you don’t want a scandal, pretend this never happened.”
Angela smiles triumphantly at moping Chief Mobley as he unwillingly releases the girls. At the same time, burly guards throw Frank into the nearest empty cell. He is not pleased to find Irina his cellmate. They stare each other down. “You don’t look quite so sexy in jailhouse orange, now, do you,” he sneers.
“You make me sick,” she spits.
He protests, “Irina, you know I had to—” She slaps him. He stares at her in open-mouthed shock. Then his expression changes to cold rage. “Maybe I should snuff you sometime.”
Irina crosses her arms contemptuously. “Hmph! I steal you of fun.”
The cell door opens. Flanked by guards, Shockley glares at her nephew. “Frank, what are you doing here?”
Frank smiles. “Just a misunderstanding, Aunt Diana.” He gives Irina a quick kiss. “Sorry to leave you behind, babe.” He hurries after his aunt.
But the door stays open. Soon Irina finds out why when Jennifer enters in her school uniform. Irina gasps. Jennifer sweeps her up and kisses her. “Let’s go.”
As soon as they leave and the guards close the door behind them, Jennifer finds herself looking at the business end of a pistol. The man holding it at her has a scarred face and a military flattop; clearly he would rather dress camo than MIB. “She’s supposed to be dead,” says Pavel Radzich, Serbian mercenary.
“And lose money on funeral charges? You let her live, I’ll buy her, and you’ll get out ahead.”
“What do we get if I kill you?”
“Litigation hell.”
They stare each other down. Eventually Radzich holsters his gun. He holds out his hand. Jennifer gives him the money she stole. “She’s your problem now.” He walks away.
Irina tries to kiss Jennifer, but she puts her hand in her way. “Not here.”
Angela rips up the charges against Irina, flanked by Shira and the violet-eyed girl. “Come with us, Irina, you’re free to go.”
Not one mention of the incident makes it to the official news channels, but the news spreads like wildfire all over the Darknet.
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[Revision 4 Final, 1/4/13: Heavily edited to fit Fourth Revision continuity. The opening scene of Chapter 15 R2 now part of the closing scene here in R4. Original title: “For His Satanic Majesty.”]
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