GuNNhead

1988, a bright day in a shithole city in Southern California. She pulls up to the front of the school in her red 1983 Camaro. Off in the distance some ways, a clear douchebag with a bad crush looks on as she interacts with the boy she’d been with practically since grade school, and is green with envy, he chugs back a swig from a flask. His eye twitches, and a drop of emerald ooze leaks down the flask as he closes it back up. He lights a cigarette, spits on the ground, and walks off as she drives away.

At the arcades after school, the couple enjoys themselves with some friends, but are confronted by this douche while leaving. He’s clearly been drinking, and is ready for a fight. He takes a swing, but is easily dodged, and is dropped in three hits, one to the stomach, another to the face, and a final elbow to the back. They’re sick of this creeper’s shit, and tell him so.

That night, as he lives in the same dump of an apartment building as his rival, he kidnaps the boyfriend’s dog, and facefucks it, leaving it in the hall.

The next day, she’s brought her boyfriend back to his apartment, and he’s concerned for his dog, he swears he can hear something sloshing around in there when he puts his ear up to the dog’s stomach. He knows it has something to do with that damn douchebag, but there’s nothing they can do and need to get going to a job fair, so he leaves a note for his parents, and lets the dog keep sleeping under the kitchen table.

In the office where the job fair is held, they’re looking at one of the employer’s showcases, an original Doomsday game with the red cartridge, all set up in an NES. Known to be one of the toughest games currently out, it was originally developed in Japan as a launch title. It was scrapped back then, but with a little tinkering was released only in the states by this small company. A top-down shooter, you only had one life, but when you died, you were taken to a screen with a choice of two mini-games to win your freedom from hell.

Outside, douchebag is looking at her car and fuming. He’s chugging his flask like there’s no tomorrow and looks really worse for the wear. His black eye is pretty puffy, and appears to be leaking pus, he has a weird gait sort of and a hunch. He takes a final swig and makes a b-line for the door of the office building. From inside you can hear him yelling around the halls before he breaks the unlocked door open, making a show of himself. A security guard is caught off guard, and pops him two in the chest, dropping him.

They return to check on the dog, but when they open the door, they quite clearly see that the dog has mutated into the table, just fur coating a kitchen table, slime and blood splattered on the walls and floor. The dog is clearly dead, and after vomiting, they leave, heading to her place to try to figure out what the hell just happened, because that crap is fucking messed up.

Shithead is is back in his apartment, examining the two bullet-holes in his flask. He throws it down, and picks up a large green bottle with a number 2 on it, and a picture of a winged serpent woman. He starts chugging the whole thing.

Cruising past an industrial string of buildings, the red Camaro is sideswiped through a chain-link fence. They see asshole, giant, deformed and monstrous, writhing tendrils flailing from where he was shot, coming towards them. They get out of the car entangled in fence and run in between the buildings. Mutant jerk jumps over the car, and punches the sides of buildings, breaking large chunks off of them as he searches for the duo. He eventually breaks through enough walls to the point where they’re cornered. He’s a grotesque monstrosity, 8-9 feet tall at least, and leaking out slime from everywhere, especially his fists now that he’s spent the better part of 10 minutes hitting bricks and slamming the ground and large machinery. He lurches towards them, saying he’ll turns her boyfriend into paste, demanding to be with her or he’ll smash them both. She refuses, obviously, but as he’s about the bring his giant fists down on them, he begins to pop and fizzle, some parts deflating, others enlarging. When his bottom drops out and he shits himself, he starts melting from the inside out, becoming just a steaming puddle of scum.

This entry was posted on August 31, 2018 at 3:33 am and is filed under Fiction. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.