Six Cylinder Sunset
Singular Demontician of the Family of his Holy Cross
“The Scientist claims Eureka! The Wizard says Magic.” -Saint Ghuel’Rash
Ghuel’Rash was never particular as to how to get from one point to another. Often times he would take the most unknown route to a location, seemingly for effect. To test the schematics of a barely drawn reality. For the moment he has zigged three streets left, zagged four streets right, and then waddled a loop around the crest, to mechanically climb the staircase of Od, and then to lift the large heavy doors of the clock tower, Old Hobbes.
The tower was a spotting point for portal openings at the rise of The Fall. Now the dusty corridors were merely dark corners for housing roden-spawn – small mutated rodents the Fall has so glamorously bewitched to look like all manner of rotting nastiness you don’t even want to breathe near. With many encounters under his belt, Ghuel’Rash walked soft with a flame-thrower and heavily modified elephant-gun.
The scurrying of small creatures could be heard up and down the hall as critters flew into the ceiling spaces, slithered into crevices, or rolled into holes in the ground. Ghuel’Rash’s foot steps made a heavy creak each time. The last corridor to the tower was the most time consuming to get in to. One had to access three separate doors, emplaced to keep unwanted visitors of all sorts out.
Entering the outer shell of Old Hobbes Ghuel’Rash fiddled with the door latch as the massive clock’s tickings echoed forever. The gigantic machinery that kept the time in this town was impressively deliberate in it’s abilities to malfunction. In the instance that reality has left Ghuel’Rash in, there are few to tend to Old Hobbes’ needs.
Ghuel’Rash gathered the oil rags, lubricating dispensers, and hand tools from nearby shelves. Walking silently he paced with the timing of the ancient tickings. Moving beyond the outer shell, he came to a winding stairwell at the center that he ascended for quite a while.Turning off his path to adjust gadgets and gizmos he made certain that Old Hobbes was in good shape. This landmark was one of a few still surviving the hellish place Earth had become. He felt better about the apocalypse knowing that it wasn’t truly a whole end, but a partial one. One that Humanity could and would recover from. Fixing some odds end ends on a lower floor he could hear the clicking of time ticking more accurately already.
As he reached the top of the staircase a pungent odor overtook his sense of smell. Some manner of beast had managed to infiltrate the head of Old Hobbes and laid it’s bowel movements all across the floor like a nest! This made Ghuel’Rash very uncomfortable, because the turds were all easily larger than his feet side by side and one in front of the other. The thickness of the shit was very disturbing, being high in protein it did not break apart easily. What ever it was that had found a home here was healthy and large.
Saint Ghuel’Rash paid all gods a quick prayer by lighting the end of his torch strapped below his left arm. With his right he withdrew the elephant-gun and switched the laser-sight on at the end. Before stepping around a corner the Saint would jet a short burst of flaming liquid from his arm into the darkness, ensuring purging hot light.
The Saint came across a view of what was left of Aspen Hill, Maryland. The wind roared in at this particular angle, sweeping away the odor of rotting feces. Old Hobbes’ huge clock arms ticking away in a droning mechanical drivel. The city below was burned and scorched looking as ash fell from the sky like apocalyptic snow. In the distance the Saint could see pentagrams of fire releasing and sucking in depths of billowing gassy blackness hovering just over the horizon, where D.C. was situated. Occasionally something would slip out of the fire shaped breathing black-smoke emblem and fall to the Earth, but sometimes the falling object would fly off into the sky.
Suddenly Old Hobbes struck 8. The bells of the tower rocked a deep boom into the dead neighborhoods beyond. Riling some zombies and the festering things that still moved about he watched as the tolling rang off. The noise all but faded when Ghuel’Rash heard the hissing of a breathing demon hanging above him who’s sleep was interrupted and now was salivating for a fresh meal. The goo from the demon’s mouth dripped down a long stringy trail to the floor, past Ghuel’Rash’s eyes and onto the end of his flame-thrower with a sizzle.
It was a large green monster. At least nine feet tall, winged, and tailed hanging by its bat like feet from the ceiling. With no cheeks on it’s face and multiple jaws churning several different layers, and rows, of double-edged teeth the hideousness merely multiplied. The Saint took a few steps back, as the demon had not yet opened its four sets of eyes.
Stretching it’s massive arms to awaken it’s lazing body the mega-demon alighted from it’s lofty surface to land foot first on the floor. Ghuel’Rash was standing around the corner listening for the right moment to interject and make his presence known. In a pocket he produced a length of fuse. He drilled the fuse into part of a satchel hanging in a fanny pack around his waist. Ripping the fanny pack off, he lit the fuse with the end of his torch and stepped around the corner.
The Demon was awesomely terrifying. A true horror to the eyes, a sight only the Saint of the after-world could take in correctly. It reared its devilish head, cruelly barbed with two sets of ram like horns. The eyes blinked at the Saint in patterns as it witnessed the small man-creature turn the corner. The devil, seemingly all powerful, had met its match.
Ghuel’Rash knew the fuse had a seven second delay. He also knew exactly how he needed to throw the device in order to get the desired effect as the bomb might not dispatch the demon entirely. He knew that he might have to do a little more than watch, and he was fully aware that the bomb he was tossing was a mixture of several different chemically bonded explosive materials that he hand=crafted himself for demon dispatching – Now.
The satchel landed between the legs of the demonic entity and in a dramatic display of fierceness the beast opened its wings, breaking through nearby rock and frame way. The beasts wings did well to impress and help defeat it. The bombs blast area was now conveniently within the confines of the devil’s wings. The only problem was that Saint Gheul’Rash was within the wing-span as well!
Turning to confront a sinewy-membraneous wall he brandished a large Kukri from his hip. Tearing through the muscle would be insanely difficult; So he blasted through with the elephant gun, slashed deep with the knife and dove through the now flappy door-way that he’d opened. While feeling the hot breath of the demon on his back he dove straight through as the explosion for the bomb deafened him, collapsing part of the architecture of the roof.
As the Saint turned over there was the upper half of the demon torso on display, the right arm attached, and the wings boiled down to paper-thin bones. As it scratched about it hissed, barked, belched, screamed and puked to death. A deep harrowing chilly scream with bile bubbling out that would send people fleeing. Raising the elephant rifle he pressed the end of the barrel into the Devil’s squealing mouth. Pulling the second trigger sent the other half of the body over the edge and the Saint was alone again.
Holstering his cannon and closing the fuel valve below his arm all went silent, aside from the ever-encroaching stimulation of Old Hobbes’ rhythm. Originally he was taking the time to come here to adjust the clock and that was still what he meant to do. taking the tools around the Saint managed to correct the time with a 3 second flaw at 8:15 in the P.M. Seeing the gears turn reminded him of the ideas of older man, like the idea of Time. How it was in itself something that seemingly did not exist tangibly yet was acknowledged by all who walked the planet. A measurement in spatial proportion of our position versus a giant star we happen to spin around at very precise angles. The science and ingenuity involved in the most simple idea so that people could adjust to a schedule and the world could work. Encapsulated now in Old Hobbes and grinding away as ever before.
A few hours later Saint Ghuel’Rash was exploring the horizon for scientifically driven architecture and places that looked to be of promise. The streets were dusted well over with snowy ash now. The only foot prints that had trudged through in a while were his leading up the steps to the clock-tower and quickly fading under the fall. As he walked down the staircase of Od a new foot-path was made and the gongs of Old Hobbes tolled into the farthest ranges around for none to hear.
The Beginning: The last words written by Father Draconis to Saint Ghuel’Rash
Some say the beginning started with the end. The End. How wrong could any lines be to conclude a birth-right to a mother-planet, the heritages of long spoken peoples, the conventions of all our thoughts, all our customs…
But my Children. Do not worry. There is light yet that still settles on our diminished souls. Our home as it is now. We will prosper in these dire nights, as the candle is brightest in the darkest of hours…
You are all marked by the Gods, you are. There is an energy in all of us that permeates throughout time and space. The same energy is shared by all beings on the planet, and the planet is recycling its worldly rations to restore itself. The fall was brought on by mans ever arching attempt at a Universal belief. That belief was that the end would come…
Our objective after the fall, which will come my Children, and soon. Is for you to restore a better Human-kind. One that is far more capable of an internal identity with the more important concepts of science. Particularly in the personal diagram of ones life…
The boundaries of the mind will bend and twist into new processes of rationalizing threats and capabilities. But with Science we can brand a new religion, we can win with Science. Some may only be swayed with a new currency, or weapons, or their lives. But we will use Science…
Now know that you will all be tested, that you will all be put at risk. Many will not live a few more years. So to make the most of it you should all pray nightly to the Muses of olden day, and bring back beliefs in power that are the only threshold we have left in these wicked times of non-believers…