This is my Terror Tuesday for this week. Trickery is in the air!
THE MISTS OF PAPOOSE POND
Chapter Thirty One
The huge, hairy creatures are vicious. They take no quarter. Resembling nothing I have ever seen before, their general shape appears to be some type of a deformed lion/hippopotamus mix. Their claws are big, and their teeth are sharp. Behemoths! Their existence and purpose were spoken about in the Bible and the Book of Enoch, but to actually see these things in person and to battle the monstrosities is another thing entirely.
And why are they fighting on the side of Satan? Were they not created by God to protect the Earth when God first made it?
"My God!" Tom shouts. "The book of Job is here before us:
"Behold Behemoth, which I made as I made you;
he eats grass like an ox.
Behold, his strength is in his loins,
and his power in the muscles of his belly."
"It's nice you can quote Scripture, Tom, but what are we going to do with these guys? They're smashing us to bits."
"I don't know, Ed. Supposedly they are the first works of God."
"What happened? Why did they switch allegiance?"
"They say God no longer needed them after awhile and destroyed them. They're pissed off at him, I guess."
"Pissed off and not hardly destroyed."
Our Angels swoop in and attack the Behemoths, but that leaves the rest of us to fight the Dark Angels and Zombies. With good Zombies versus evil Zombies, we have a sort of evening out when most of the humans jump in to back them up. My big buddies and I are pretty much left to fight the evil from the sky, and we manage to keep them under control, disabling them long enough so we can actually help out the Angels battling the Behemoths.
The frontal attack doesn't work for us, however. We need to team up on these bastards. Their tails! That's it; their immense, powerful tails! If we can lop them off, we'll take a lot of the punch out of them.
As thick as their tails are, my machete looks like a pretty pitiful weapon. That's because it is. The damn thing is barely as wide as the powerful weapon coming out of the ass end of these things. A swish of their tail creates a powerful wind to spring forth, and when it strikes something, the sound is like that of a wood plank smashing through bone and flesh.
Angels and webbed warriors both are smitten and fall to the ground. One of the Angels drops his sword as he falls, and I pick the majestic weapon up, and once I become accustomed to the weight and balance of it, I tear into the behemoths, jumping out of their way as soon as I know which way they plan to come from next. Their tails litter the battlefield, and their cries of pain fill the evening air.
The song of the battle reaches a crescendo of grand proportions, confusing the evil forces. My warriors are too busy fighting their opponents to even have time to get rattled by mere noise. Maybe being undermanned can be an asset.
My new-found weapon sings its own song as beast after beast is slowed down, some even falling before me, completely destroyed. These buggers might be mean and vicious, but it appears they are not immortal. Thank God for that: we only have to kill them once.
The blood is so thick in the air that it appears we have a Blood moon. I suppose we do. Everything is a matter of perception. In this battle for supremacy of all that exists, the only constant is change. White Moon, red Moon; Biblical monsters created by God fighting on the side ot Satan; Earth changing natural phenomena implemented by both God and the Dark Master; and good and evil Zombies and Zombie ghosts fighting against each other.
One thing remains constant, though: Ed will not budge, and Ed will think on the run and come up with insane ways to fight this war.
As much as they can, my troops shove our antagonists into the swirling magma, the heat and fire being the most efficient means of their disposal. The lava claims our guys as well, God's manifestation of a natural weapon turning out to be a rather fickle ally. I don't know how many times I come close to going over the abyss myself. But, I'm not exactly a ballerina. Clutz would be a far more accurate term for me.
Red Moon above; red rivers of blood beneath our feet; gore and splatter of intestines strung out on the ground mixing with the blood, and spread amongst the lower branches of the trees and bushes; and the odors, tastes, and visual impact, all create an indelible panorama of horror. There is no escape, and there will not be until the end days are truly ended.
How long will that be?
The Behemoths' entry into the mix of this battle seems to be ending, and I wonder why this should be. Sure, the bastards were a tough adversary, but once we figured out how to destroy them, although it wasn't easy, we still did it. This smacks of another diversionary tactic, one most certainly created by my creative, antagonistic bastard of an enemy Satan. The signs are all there: make us fight for our very survival while He plans for another front against us, something to shock and surprise us with.
Shock and awe. Where have I heard that before? It seems like a thousand years ago.
Damn! Damn! Damn! Now that the action is slowing down a bit, I realize what's going on, what's taking place.
"Tom! Take over up here!" I shout. "I need to go below. Lucifer is below, and he's wreaking some major havoc."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't have time to explain it right now. When I'm back, I'm back."
Rushing down below, I pick up on the agony, the pain, and the death. Shit! That mother-fucker will pay for what He's done! How did he catch on to this? My mind was sealed to Him.
My webbed friends still alive tell me all I need to know, and I rush for all I'm worth to what I thought was a safe haven.
Stupid Ed! My good intentions have cost me. More than that; they have caused others to die.
I reach the cavern where Louise is waiting for me to return. I'm too late. Bodies of my friends litter the floor.
Louise has been taken!