After the Appointed Hour, Acts One, Two, & Three

By Wyley Foster

Let me explain, this is the twenty-third century, and is not the glittery, pretty century promised three hundred years ago. Humanity never left Earth to go to the stars, too much selfish behavior.
My name is Sue. My mother is from the Stars, and she taught me.
Everything you have ever been taught about demons is wrong, or at the best fancifully stupid. What fights a Demon is a witch.
What kills a Demon is nothing, banishment is temporary. Know this ball of dirt, Earth, has lost its way, and comes the hour, the day, to its end. The really good news, I am not a witch, but I will not be here in the end, fore I can walk the stars.
Like hell I will run, I was born here, this my home, whether I want it to be or not!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wyley Foster
• Release date: Jul 2, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463083826

Wyley Foster

Born in Salem, Oregon. Always loved to read, HG Wells, Frank Herbert, Robert E Howard, are but a few to name. While reading discovered many places in the Southwest which included the state of Texas, and countries like Mexico and Canada. Seen it rain in New Mexico, seen the sun in Phoenix, saw a Lake of Salt, watched a river begin and end in the same state without going to the sea and so many many things. Now it is time to tell a story, with memories, from a boring life. So kick back get your photons flying off your reader and enjoy a world of words least they vaporize into our future as relics found in the sand. Wyley Foster

Book preview

Chapter 1 - Prologue

After the Appointed Hour

The Scripting begins: This script is not done throughout the entire story, it's done for a purpose. Fore, a thousand pictures, may make only one word.

The view is in blackness:

Sue's Mothers, her voice, This is my daughter, I am so proud of her.

The view explodes with light rays till you see...

Exterior View: You see, Sue is in a desert, the southwestern part of North America. She is walking along no particular path, upon the rough untrod ground, she will sometimes pause to make part of her speech, sometimes it will be narrated while walking over a rough untrod piece of land. Her body is, if you could see it, lithe, and athletic, she is five feet six inches tall, with some oriental features in her face, her skin is fair, but well tanned. Based on her diminutiveness of her body, her strength would surprise you, and when she flexes her muscles you don't see them much, but they become hard as rocks. She could bench press alongside any muscle man, pound for pound, and she has a natural grace in her body, and with the martial arts, she knows, she can be very smooth with her physical moves.

Sue is wearing a blotter of desert colors and textures, she is wearing three sets of clothes, and except the color of her piecemeal outfit nothing belongs together. She has three used shirts on, all of them are ripped and resewn, and a brown leather chest piece with a broken fringe. The pieces are running down onto her belly are all different lengths, which is covered by three different ragged edged shirts. She has a sombrero on that is tied tight with string on the conical hat part to keep it from falling down below her ears. She has short blond hair, with spice tips that seem to be only controled by the sombrero's setting upon her head. Her jeans, the outer pair of pant legs look as if they suffered an existentialist break, and became an outline of what pants should be when philosophical. If bad taste in clothing were a magnet, all things of bad taste would end up here draped upon Sue.

For portage equipment Sue has a twenty five pound satchel draped over her shoulders, two fanny packs around her waist, one right and one left, with a small leather pouch on the front of her body. There is a wide black fiber belt above her waist to keep the three shirts she is wearing with ragged edges tucked in and not flapping about. It looks like she went to go camping and decided to just put stuff on her body.

This is very far from the truth, she is very organized, and the mismatched clothes hide things, like the ka bar knife, and sheath on the bottom of her left fanny pack. There is a knife, a tanto knife in the black fiber belt, unseen, unless you really look for it carefully. The small leather pouch is fully padded inside for a two inch crystal ball, and has a full seal against the elements, water in particular, and tied up on the Satchel in a nice tight roll is her Heavy Armored Jacket. Inside the jacket is another knife, a Katar punching knife, and displayed on the satchel is her survival knife.

She has on good quality hiking boots, except for the dust on them, they look out of place being new, and of high quality. It looks like with all the clothes on, she should be cooking herself in the sun, but looks cool, well she is not sweating. That is her cool look, the clothes she wears could make beggars want to give to her, instead of asking her to give to them.

Sue speaks standing with a nice vista of desert behind her, Let me explain, this is the twenty-third century, and is not the glittery pretty century promised three hundred years ago. Humanity never left Earth to go to the stars, too much selfish behavior. So, very few born on Earth, in historic times, have ever touched their feet upon the dark fleshy void between the universes.

Sue continues speaking and walking, I don't teach so pay attention. Order to Chaos, not one universe, but, many universes, many, many particles in the quantum foam, God exists, just not the one you want to exist, and God is not evil, or stupid. It is just that everyone wants the God wrapped in plastic for $199.99 to be real and not a plastic figure.

Sue holds up God wrapped in plastic, an old man with white sandy hair, standing upright legs apart, with a staff and a big flowing beard about five inches tall. He is only a figure, just plastic, molded by a plastic corporation, and made from greed itself to sell empty promises to humanity. A made by man inferno for the soul, God Wrapped in plastic.

Sue starts singing,

"I don't teach. I don't tell.

And I'm not following my mother's plan.

I am being a bad, bad, girl, bad girl walking.

Walking here in my way, today, my way.

Sue, Speaking

My mother is not going to punish me.

Are you scared yet?

Sue sings again

I am not, for I am Sue,

Sounds too much to be true.

My name is Sue. Sue. Sue,

I am being a bad, bad, girl, bad girl walking.

Sue, Speaking

I have never seen the inside of a school

- That did not have blue sky for a roof.

Sue, Singing

I Watched my Mother die

- Four red roses, ever true, ever rising fonts

- burrowing out of her chest, red red the roses.

I Ran, followed my Mothers plan, then I ran away,

- from my Mother's plan, followed, tell breath of mine,

- Breath, ran away, my bodies breath, gone from lungs, sails of my feet flattened,

Roses won, Red Petals flowed down the stems of life

- Petals grown, flowered from Mom, petals red red rose.

- Soak the ground, red red the rose, came out chest, then down

Four red Roses, ever rising as she died,

- ever true, ever rising in her end of life.

- Petals grown, flowed to Earth, pools of Red, red, red.

I stood upon ground I never wanted gained,

- breath of mine ran away, found in sorrows cry

- sorrows die, in blood's cry, red red the rose

Mother's plan, never ever again, would I be ran away.

I am being a bad, bad, girl, bad girl walking,

Walking here in my way, a bad, bad, girl, walking today

Sue speaks, again

Mother is not here, no punishment today

- For I go my own way, way, way, Sue's way Today.

Sue sings, again

An end to her life, a loss of Mother mine.

I am dangerous, bad, bad, girl walking, dangerous,

Walking here to my way, Never should you meet ME

My name is Sue. Sue. Sue, Bad girl walking.

Sue, Speaking

A teenage girl with no parental guidance.

Sue makes herself look foxy to spite her vagabond mismatched clothes. She pulls her loose fitting shirts tight, bringing her figure's curves to mold her clothes, rather than drape upon her body.

Sue's Mom Speaking

Show off!, Show, show. show off!

What did I tell you about Showing Off",

Sue, Listen to me from beyond the grave,

LISTEN NOW!

Sue's Mom singing now

Children what can we do.

She's lived by my instruction, She has my plan!

Been my student, followed in my shoes,

- walked mother, and daughter hand in hand.

I am her teacher, her story teller, and her mom,

Boots on the ground! SUE, NOW! set, and GO!

Music no Vocals just Sue's Mom Singing Solo

I am gone, and all she does is Show!

I have a plan daughter dear, go, go, GGOOO!

Lessons never learned to children grown,

never ever Show, show, show.

Listen to me now, my child.

Listen to me now, child,

Listen, remember me,

I was mom, and am gone.

Hear my love, ring your ears, last forever long.

Never ever show, I love you so,

Show you learned,

Show you know,

Show me, Mother forever gone, Show you love me so,

Follow my plan, never faulter, never fail.

Follow my plan, Sue, be forever and always true.

Sue singing,

I don't teach. I don't tell.

Some may take advantage of me,

Easy prey, trick me out,

For the sex trade show,

Think they can?

Then crush me, smush me, into society's mold,

A secretary, A housewife, A Boppy Bimbo; perhaps,

Think they can?

Or just suck my blood, eat my flesh,

And lick me till the white bones show.

Think they can?

Sue, Speaking

It never sounds like much,

But my name is Sue."

Chapter 2 - Act I, Part I - Scripting

The View Exterior is of Sue, not seeing much background.

Sue holds the plastic figure, and says, This is the God wrapped in plastic, with the plastic wrap seal still in place. Peel the plastic wrapper back make a prayer, a wish, a desire, a want, and heaven forbid send a true need to a piece of plastic. This same figure could be Moses too, and is for a certain religion.

Exterior View: The voice over is Sue, the point of view is scanning a little slash of a valley nested in-between to rocky ridges, and a gentle drainage slope going down; thus, making an easy climb to the hilltop, I was born on Earth, but my heritage comes from the stars, and I am human, human genes from the stars. My father, I shall never know, my mother would never say much about him, except she loved him. My education is not Earthly, I attended the school of the Concrete Divider Academy, got my CDA certificate of graduation, and it was my mother that taught me; her culture, her ways, her magic, her martial arts, and powers. The cool knowledge of her life lived away from Earth, like how to beat up a space alien.

The view is of Sue, the narrator is Sue's Mom: Sue smiles with no teeth showing. Her mom says, She does not expect you to believe a word she says. I taught her well.

Sue is standing there starting her speech again, In my education, it is of the stars, starry places you will never know those bound to Earth, though I never left the Eastern Seaboard of North America, I learned what she taught me, I had no choice, for I loved my mother. Harsh is this world, and harsher still was the pace of my education, the drum beat out its tempo upon me as every hour and every minute, each beat held a lesson. There was no room for error, or mistakes, just my mother's love and my life were the rewards, those were the 'A+'s' I could earn.

Sue is moving again, staying below the ridge line, her voice over, I watched my mother die, murdered, and I followed her plan in such an event of her premature death. I ran away. She thought of everything, she trained me well and had a plan for me to follow. I am only fourteen years old by my mother's count; though, I have counted twenty one years past here on this rock. My soul feels so heavy these hours, like I have already lived the fullness of my body's life. I have not cried yet, my soul has not stirred from that moment, Run AWAY SUE!"

I find myself, and look upon myself as if God would find my soul. I want him to stir it up for me, giving me the grief I should feel, and propel me to action, my mother's plan. My soul should lead me, guide me, give my mother's plan the action it needs, and it does not do so. I, my soul, is so heavy it is a burden I do not lift for it crushes my heart, and I can feel this pain."

Exterior the View does not change, it stays with Sue: Sue hangs her head down and does not speak for a few seconds. Sue's Mom says, I am truly dead, she is free to choose her fate; for, if I had body, I would kill her for failing in my plan's execution. Then, again, I cannot say, could not know, the grief she feels, so my harsh words may be misspoken. The voice of Sue's mom is quiet, and she ended her sentence in emotion choking her words. Time will tell.

Sue raises up her head standing still and says, Well, anyway, I sort of followed my mothers plan, I ran away. If I explained her plan, it would make perfect sense to me, not to you. She taught me to 'walk the stars' that is star travel without a spaceship. Told you so, I understand, do you? Sue smiles the smile with no teeth.

Sue continues to say, "I don't teach. And what is a spiritual held hope, as compared to the ever capable skill of doing?

I know things, and I do things. You don't even believe in these skills let alone me. Imbued from my mother, this magic, I can light a fire with my fingers and send it floating in the air twelve feet away. Ok, it won't do much more than what a match would do, still it is magic, the quantum foam set to become a tiny blaze, and it saves a ton on the purchase of matches."

Sue continues her speech, The martial arts I learned from my mother, ok Earth has martial arts too, but these are from my mother to me. What can I say? Sue casts a simple spell, and it lights up sparkly points of colored lights, they dance about almost hypnotically.

Sue's Mom says, She is not about to show her skill with her martial arts. The lights fade after a few brief seconds. Sue's Mom says, I love my daughter.

Sue speaks, I don't tell. And I am not following my mother's plan. I am being a bad girl, and my mother is not going to punish me. Are you scared yet?, I am not, for my name is Sue. I am the most dangerous thing you could ever possibly meet. A teenage girl with no parental guidance. Just suck my blood, eat my flesh, and lick me till the white bones show. It never sounds like much, but my name is Sue.

She stands tall for her small stature, small and vulnerable is her present to this world to be seen by all. Sue's Mom says, "At least you don't see how dangerous she really is even at the age of fourteen. Though, twenty one years had passed on Earth for Sue, she is from the stars, and a different human lineage, one that ages differently. She is my child, pupil, and love of my life. I am dead, now, and forever more. Sue is my gift to all, open at your own risk.

Exterior: You see a scruffy desert, a series of plants, a dead plant infested, rust coated car body, sandy rocks, sharp uncaring rocks, nothing to see, and nowhere near what could be called a good campsite. There are four exits to this area with no place to pitch a tent or get out of the way if someone came along.

Sue says, Ah, this is just like the beaches back home, just a little dry. How do you Bivouac? Me I use magic, and anything else that comes to hand.

Sue walks into the frame, sits down, and begins to cast a spell, that will take an hour to cast. This spell will be a while, go count the paint strips in the middle of the road it will be more exciting for you.

Exterior: The View Dissolves to the strips of paint in the middle of a road floating past.

The paint strips go by slowly, then faster and faster. A burst of gunfire, a short burst of auto gun fire, more shots, then a splat squishy sound. The stripes on the road continue to float up and up on the screen as the dialog is heard.

There are two people alive in the car, Zestra, and Bernie. You only hear what they have to say, and the enviroment sounds that are important.

Oh, God! Zestra screams, Kranz, you ok?

No, Butterfall, fried-b, son of a bitch, head shot, Zestra get into the Driver's seat, Bernie screamed.

The road strips start to waver back and forth.

What? Zestra startled by what she was told to do.

Kranz is dead, he is driving, still. Git in the dripping butter, the driver's seat! Bernie yelled at Zestra.

I don't know how to drive! Zestra screams back.

Just steer this car. And quit bitching. Bernie's voice is drowned out with more bullets slam into the car echoing through the interior.

The road stripes continue to waiver back and forth. Noises are heard indicating a person crawling from the back seat to the front seat. Squishy noises, Bernie cussing, bullets flying into the car, A scream as the road strips slide to the left side. Then they come back to the center and continue to move to the right, then they straighten up.

The sounds fade one by one, sounds grouped by need, the voices are second last to fade, which is mostly cussing and a scream. The gunfire is last to fade, leaving only a buzzing sound that fades as well.

The View, lines on the road dissolve into the interior of a car.

You can see the interior of the car, Lena, wearing the business suit of a shooter, a desert gray pants and shirt with plenty of places to put gun magazines. She has brilliant blue eyes wide open with a dead stare, specks of blood, between wet and dry, her chest is ripped open from two bullets that came in from the passenger's , back to front.

The view pans up to Bernie, his clothes are a duplicate of Lena's except male, he crouches down with a Colt Sagun, barreled for a carbine, a forty-five caliber weapon. Zestra is wearing a blood spattered blue smock, blue jeans, with a blue split skirt wrapped around them, and a fancy pair of ankle top leather boots. She sits on top of Kranz's body, his brains decorate the interior windshield, there are two bullet holes in the windshield too. You see, all of this in silence, even the music is muted, then the wind rips open the sound channels allowing music, environment and speech.

Where are we going? Zestra yells.

Hell, Home I guess, Bernie yells back.

More bullets pass in the car... Seeking the life of the last two occupants.

Are you going to shoot back? Zestra screams more than asking.

Bernie checks the magazine of his weapon, Fried-b, with my last bullets, YES! The view jerks up into the blood spattered car ceiling, more splatter is made as we watch. A burst of auto fire is sound magnified and released from within the car at the same time as the blood spatter. Then there is no more sound except a ringing noise that fades as well.

The view pans to Kranz, with Zestra sitting on top of him, she is alive and barely steering the car. A car crash is heard behind her, then the view jumps to...

Exterior View of A blue car, midsized, bullet ridden and filled with three corpses comes over the top of a hill, there are two people in the driver's seat, the top one is Zestra, and the bottom one is Kranz. Kranz has no forehead, but red gore, and is quite dead. The car veers off the road.

Zestra says, How do I stop this machine? There are no other living people to answer that question within the blue car. If you have not realized yet, she does not know much about automobiles.

The view, Exterior, a blue car: It is heading to a dilapidated small home, there are concreted poles in the ground looking somewhat like crosses to hold the laundry lines up. Zestra aims for the closest metal pole. The car smashes into it, knocking it down, grinding metal on metal as the car skids over it, engine parts from the bottom are left behind on the pole, and the car continues on at a much slower pace, belching smoke from below, crashing into the house.

Cut to: The car comes to a stop in the living room after crashing through the wall. The motor releases a vile cloud of smoke, knocks a couple of times and dies. The living room is now a garage.

Zestra fills the view now: I love you Kranz, you have bared your soul or rather brains, I love you, but not that much, I am tired of sitting on your wood. Zestra gets the drivers door open and gets out in a plop of two beautiful arms and two beautiful legs and of course torso with head all beautiful, and a bit bloody from fighting. She gets up looks at Kranz, May your journey into the after, be what you dreamed.

The view Cuts to: In the back seat of the car are two corpses, a bullet ridden one female, Lena, whose chest had seen healthier days as it is now ripped open with bullets. Laying on top of her face up, on her lower body is her dead lover, Bernie, shot in the upper part of his head, and in the upper chest where the neck becomes torso, two bullets again.

The view pulls out of the car: Zestra says, Lovers died in each others arms, always go together in the ever and after. You were beautiful in life, in death, be beautiful now, and in your forever travels be lovers still. Zestra hears other vehicles approaching, her guardians are dead, those coming are not her friends.

She has few choices left. She wants to fight and that is not the thing to do here at this moment. She has no guardians left, she does not know how to use guns for defense. If they would only wait till they got within the range of her fist, or foot.

The view pans with her: She moves on into a less debris cluttered part of this house, into a hallway. Zestra makes it to the bathroom, I got to run, need supplies, water, food, beauty kit,.... She walks into the bathroom and starts looking for stuff to take on the run.

There are defined sounds of someone smashing their way into the house from the open hole the car made. Zestra looks up and silently mutters for ten seconds, casting: Mage Armor, and Vigor of the Victor.

She is in the bathroom, casting spells to make her tougher and give her inhuman endurance.

Cut the view of the new hole in the side of the house: There are three assailants entering through the new hole in the side of the house, they each hold a mini-submachine gun, 9mm, Bullet Blowers, and are wearing cheap bullet blunting vests, bulletproof would be a lie for these cheap protective vests. They have real names, but here they are Dead Grunt One, Two and Three. They enter like amateurs, all moving in as one unit, nobody securing the corners.

Cut the view back to: Zestra, she finished her spells, can feel the extra protection of her spell, and her exhaustion of being up for twenty four hours lifts from her body. She listens, and hears the three men. Her choice is simple, if they open the door, she has a shot at one of them, and then probably a hail of bullets would hit her. Her option was offense, open the door herself, then she might have a shot to kill all three of them.

Cut back to: The living room extends into the foyer, and hallway with stairs leading up to the second story, to the side is the bathroom that Zestra had entered. Her dusty footprints lead them to the bathroom, they started at the car drivers door, then went straight to here. Dead Grunt Three hangs back, about nine feet from the bathroom door, One is in front of the bathroom door, and Two right behind him. They are not in a good tactical position; Zestra smashes the bathroom door, making the hinges, and door frame only a suggestion, smashing it off its hinges and into pieces.

Zestra slides up to Dead Grunt One, her tiger paw fist floats with swift killing power to where the neck turns into the upper chest, where there is some of his protective vest covering his body. Her hand, a tiger paw, tears through the vest, into his flesh, and comes out with the fingers bloody all the way up to her knuckles. Blood and silence roll down his chest, then an odd groat noise struggles out from the unnatural gash at the base of his neck.

She plants her foot down and pivots to get an angle on Dead Grunt Two. Her tiger paw floats on a cushion of a bloody mist given by Dead Grunt One's lethal wounds, it slid towards his head towards the part behind his ear. The Dead Grunt Two puts his mini-submachine gun, Bullet Blower, up to block Zestra's punch, the metal gun screams as it buckles into a 'V' shaped piece of junk from the metal stressing and stretching beyond its designed tolerance. It stopped Zestra's blow, becoming a useless piece of junk. Still, Zestra's fingertips get a taste of his skin, lacerating it like the skin had the strength of a nose blowing tissue.

A short burst from Dead Grunt Three, it slams into the back of Dead Grunt Two, three nine millimeter holes out of ten shots. Dead Grunt Two buckles at the knee, Zestra peals off a squashed soft lead nine millimeter bullet on her left upper chest and feels the pain of another bullet hit. This one bounced off of her lower torso about where her appendices would be located. She could hear that the mini-submachine gun was not going to continue to fire, it was either out of bullets, or jammed. Dead Grunt Two has made it to his knees, being shot in the back three times, Zestra's tiger palm smashed into the top of his head rending the skull and adding five new holes. He was not going to get up again.

Cut to Zestra's View: Zestra brings her second sight, her spiritual vision, in to Dead Grunt Three's body and see's, the body of Dead Grunt Three changes from human to demonic. Instead of the long floating beams of a late afternoon sun, the light upon the gross body was dark, and the body glowed in sickly demonic blotches of darkness.

That of demonic influence, a soulless vessel of a human, this is for a demon to have, once human now soulless, and once whole now hollow, made for a demon to possess, and own. It was like the whole skin of a human flayed off of a human body to be worn by another, in this case a demon. "This would be easy, Zestra would banish this shell of flesh.

Zestra slips across the nine feet of space like a great tiger, she reaches out and touches the thing, harsh guttural words come from her mouth, Grall, Potash, and the room fills with light.

The light is a flash, the darkness comes back, Zestra is looking at the Demonic Dead Grunt Three with a look of disbelief, It had resisted her banishment spell. The Demonic Dead Grunt Three releases the catch for the weapons magazine, it falls to the floor with a nice metallic thud. He pulls out another mag from his belt, and loads it into the gun's magazine port, then pulls the slide back cocking the gun, this loads the first round into the chamber. He never gets his finger on the trigger.

Zestra rakes him, with her paw on his lower belly, exposing viscera to the world, slams her tiger paw into his left chest over his heart covered by the blunting vest, driving her fingers like claws, between the ribs into Demonic Dead Grunt's heart sack and then into his heart. And the third swift tiger paw from the left gives a final flesh ripping rent, a chunk of meat from his neck, sliding into her hands grasp. Her hand opens slowly, and his chunk of neck flesh falls to the floor where there were many spent mini submachine gun shells scattering the floor. There is more than one way to banish a demon's crappy spare body. Zestra said without any breath coming from her exertion.

The view dissolves to an exterior of the house the bathroom window: There is no time to rest two trucks and a car fully loaded with demon worshippers are just arriving outside. She has no time to, savor the kills, or find more things like clothes; she has a bathroom kit dropped into a woman's handbag. Zestra exits out the small bathroom window and heads to the desert plant life fifty feet from this edge of the house.

Zestra knows they are going to follow her, earlier that night she had banished a part, a segment of a real demon's soul, and the body, once so human. It was destroyed in banishment, Demon and the body. That soul shard was sent back to its home to stay a thousand years. This is a fragment of what is Scragletooth the named demon, it's soul divided by ten, decimal, by its own hand. To be the host of, many, to draw in the human souls by the numbers, and to be invincible to all that would come to banish him.

A demon, from the fabric of this universe, infests a human body, a soulless human body. Its human souled life long since gone, taken by a demonic magic ritual, that is given to the human to preform upon himself. The soul ripped away from the meat that held it. The human soul goes into the demons property bin, his home, when Scragletooth took possession of the body this is where the human soul went. Some would call this place hell, it was not, hell itself you can leave. The demon's home, you become a battery, part of the lighting system, or maybe you run the dishwasher. Nobody knows what the demon uses your soul power for except the demon. Batteries don't leave, maybe they burn out, but they don't ever leave.

This is a battle, banish the demon, the loose or win for Zestra, this is her life. The hereditary of a true witch, to make demons pay for their sidreal birth here, and fight the corruption they bring upon this Earth. Zestra just put up on this event, a war declaration, her versus the demon Scragletooth, the rest of its soul, all nine parts, and its minion army was served as well. She had first blood, the first segment of this demon's soul sent to its home, the rest of the demon soul, and its minion army had countered with killing all of her protecting guardians. It was a start for Zestra, not a win.

Sue narrates over the scene with Zestra within, By the way, everything you have ever been taught about demons is wrong or at the best fancifully stupid. Sue, continues,Demons are immortal, well they always return to their realm, if you banish they just go home, and if you kill them here on Earth, they just use another vessel. Once banished, they cannot immediately return to here, to Earth, or leave for that matter their home. Well, not easily, it takes a thousand years, or you need a human vessel. The soul burned from the body, in an evil ritual, a specific soul as well, this vessel can only be created in the womb of a pregnant woman; also, the vessel must be born wiggling alive - soulless, but alive. The death of Innocence ritual, it is a crappy deal for the mother and child, but what do you want from a demon? Lots of money and a nice house?

Zestra looks about as though someone else is here, speaking, then shakes her head back to her own grindstone of running away from the demon worshipers.

Scragletooth wanted her dead. Zestra didn't have to guess why, this is the pattern of behavior for a demon. A demon's soul when it is banished from here, Earth, by a witch, and with no human intervention having summoned it first, and still controlling it, or having demon worshipers with real magic preform the perverted ritual of aborting a fetus's soul. The demon is gone for a thousand years, has to stay home. Yes, if the demon was in a bargain with a summoning human, it would be forced to fulfil the contract, and banishing would not stop it from returning for a thousand years. But, at the contracts end, it would be fully banished for a thousand years. All contracts come with a time limit, sucess or failure the time limit is a hard immoveable point. Most summoners, unless they have the banish spell, are often the first victim in the Demon's free time on Earth.

Scragletooth had divided its soul into ten parts, making it weaker as an individual, but much harder to banish away, any part of its soul could bring the banished ones back by, The death of innocence ritual. Kill the witch was in full effect, and Zestra was the witch. The First Soul Shard, Zestra had banished it, this could not come back to Earth, or be summoned again, except by the evil ritual the death of innocence. Not for a thousand years could it return on its own, or leave its own home, this pisses off demons in general, specifically Scragletooth. They like human souls, we make good batteries, and it is fun making vessels, and worshipers with demon alchemy.

Zestra was running, hunted, this was not an unusual occurrence in the process of banishing demons. The exception was an easy banishment. Then killing all the worshipers, so that evil ritual a birthed soulless living baby, The death of innocence ritual, could not be done. She would have done nothing if she did not get all the other demon soul shards of Scragletooth.

She would give this monstrosity of a Demon its due, and desire for vengeance, for she is a Sapiens Aqua Pythonissam, or Wise Water Witch born on Earth raised, and trained on the planet Victus Aqua. Now recently returned to Earth to banish and slay demons as her birthright coven had done for so long in their history within their Book of Shadows.

Well, for Zestra, banish is the best medicine for the Demon's lack of a soul, to not allow the Demon to corrupt this Earth, and banishing or killing a demon's vessel of flesh, just good common sense. Demons alway kept vessels around, often they were not even demon worshipers, just some soulless smuck; they all had to die though, worshipper and vessel. Demons were in any age a bloody business, a witch's life was often brutal and short. She was hardened on Victus Aqua in the business of killing, it served her well to have learned in such a harsh place, but she was next in the queue for killing. It is the fate of fighting, loosing that fight, running away, and thus becoming the prey that runs away, not the hero.

Zestra did not feel tired, she should but her spell of vigor warded the fatigue she knew her body was building up within her. She was good for another thirty minutes, then it would come to the final crunch. Would her pursuers go the wrong direction? Quit? Or just give up? They could catch her, this was not the option she was working so hard for by running away. A running away that seemed to be doomed to failure, which is what the history books of demon slaying always said.

Chapter 3 - Act I Part I - Your Mind, Your Will, Your Soul

The View is evening, the light is faded, and the sky just has a half an hour before dark, we see Zestra running, we see the past come up from the ground, this is the very end of the day, of yesterday evening, the prelude to this moment in time, and the introduction to the telling her guardians what they were in for:

Dissolve into: It is the time of just after sunset, when the heat of the day is not charged by the sun anymore. The waves of heat, which rise from the ground, and give the heat up back into the atmosphere, into the oven of Earth's natural greenhouse are gone for the evening, along with the droning buzz of the insects, that mix their sound into the heat waves. It is still hot, and makes sweat rise up from, and out of the skin as if the human body never owned the water. Five people are sitting around all listening to her. There is a creepy looking house outlining the background, no lights, just the dim reflections of starlight bouncing off the structure's windows. The view pans with the dialog, going to each person as mentioned.

They are cultists, and they will not quit even if we kill the demon, their boss, their god now. So, the work is to kill them all, no mercy, Zestra said. Starting on her left was the enigmatic Jake, slim build, dusty brown tanned skin, five feet, ten inches tall, just an inch taller than Zestra. Iswaria is next, oriental, slim but curvy body with small breasts, five feet four inches tall. Kranz, big euro bodied man thick black hair, which looked like it had escaped the barber's scissors a few times. He is six foot tall, and carrying a shotgun cradled in his arms, leaning the barrel to the left. Bernie was next, he held Lena in his lap, even their Colt Saygun smg's seem to be making out, with each other. Bernie, Lena, and their submachine guns touching the other, little kisses, long strokes down their arms, and more. Their eye contact was with each other, and not Zestra. They were making sure everyone there knew they were a couple, this is the same couple that would lay dead in the car, him on top of her.

They will show us no mercy, and if you surrender, they will indoctrinate you with demon alchemy, a drug made with the demon's blood, poop, or piss, and you will be in the service of the demon. Your mind, your will, your soul, Zestra paused, then continued. Your mind will make the Demon your God, your will is his to command, and all because you have given the Demon your soul. DO NOT EAT OR DRINK ANYTHING THERE! Unless you brought it yourself, and know it to be uncorrupted. Zestra seemed to be out of words, and almost was, just one more thing. Zestra asked, We are in this till the end as well. Any questions,?

It was a silent bunch, everyone here had a reason to be here, that they did not express. They did not even ask for or even care about the money Zestra would pay them, though they wanted their expenses paid, that is replacing the number of bullets spent, and such. Well, Jake did come for the money, and the hot body of Zestra.

Iswaria was looking for her sister, the last bit of good info she could get to her was that she went to join this cult. Her desire was to find her, and save her, or if everything had gone wrong, avenge her.

Kranz, Bernie, and Lena were a team, and going to put another notch on their belt for wiping this bunch of crazies from the Earth, and make it a safer place to live.

The quiet emanating from each individual in Zestra's circle was enough for her, she smiled, Time to Banish some demon ass! Let's go. She gets up with the whole group, other than the noises of getting up out of their rustic seats, it is totally quiet. No speeches, no questions, no nervous whimpers, just a silence, followed by a glint of a gun or sword handle. And silence as they moved to the ride, a very old car, made in twenty one fifties by Asylum motors. A combustion engine, automatic transmission, a box like shape for plenty of room inside the car, and it was called, The Joker.

Kranz and Bernie have a grin that forms on their faces, some would call it a clown's smile then, They bob heads, dance a little two step dance, and giggle, or maybe it was laughter. Lena grabs Bernie, she hated this moment, and tells them both, Let's go. Their ritual was complete, or as complete as it would ever be for Lena's desire.

"Those two should date each other," Zestra thought, and she meant the two guys. They, all three were the best of friends, or as lovers as seen with their public intimacy, ever since they could see each other in their baby years.

Jake had said maybe two words since he met Zestra, that he was going with her, into hell, well that says something if you ever take the time to think.

Iswaria seemed to float upon her feet, she was going to meet up with her wayward sister. Then, she would take her home, and thus the ass kicking would begin for her when she got home. She would do the ass kicking to get to her, to rescue her. And, all the trouble she caused? First you rescue your family, then you admonish them.

The view changes to, this group getting into Kranz's old Joker, car, who's best days had recently been seen inside a junkyard. Dialogue over the car moving out is sparse:

Kranz, Would bet my life that this, the love of my life, will get us there, and get us home. Any takers?

Nobody replies to this remark. He is the only one proud of his car, for the rest it is just transportation.

Chapter 4 - Act I, Part I - My Most Beloved

Dissolve from traveling down the road which seen better days fifty years ago, to pulling into a rather full parking lot. This lot is ringed in junk cars, with only one way in and out. The parking lot feeds a bar. A bar that is in a building that was not made for the bar, a building that is four times bigger than the bar. The unused space is filled with junk, rubble, things that started stinking a hundred years ago, and the stink is still going strong. A building, with an intact roof, mostly, inside a waste land of junk and debris, and in the center was a bar carved out the waste land within. A place that once saw real business when the local copper mines still had copper in them.

The view pulls up above the heads of our six member band, inside the car still, then the view turns heading towards the entrance of the bar, to pause at this entrance. The entrance is six doors, the middle two were removed, most likely torn off as they lay bent and mutilated to either side, and partly blocking the rest of the doors on either side. There is nobody guarding the entrance, or nobody to even watch who comes or goes. The greetings here for our hero's are dust, and rattlesnakes, air filled with stink, and the smell of copper tailings of the Earth. That soil was never put back where it came from after the copper had been removed, and its odor had risen in protest for the last hundred years or more.

The interior of the car, Cut to Zestra: she says,"Spell time, let me cast Mage Armor for each of us, then she casts Owl Vision on Iswaria, Kranz and herself, and finally Vigor of the Victor on herself, and Iswaria. Only one person even thought any of these spells would help them in the moments to come, it was Zestra, herself.

Cut to: Zestra and Iswaria are the first two to enter, the heat within perpetually escapes out the doors, making this interior hotter than the nighttime outside. Making it feel as though you were walking into Hell. Hell did not have this site in any of its infinite number of places on its map, and to spite all that is told of Hell in our modern times, this place was worse. Hell is a nicer place than this dump.

Cut to: Over Iswaria's shoulder, the first step past the permanently opened portal to the bar leaves one in darkness, making the step back look brighter, almost day like in the middle of the night. Then two more steps, and one can see the interior, and the hole they walked through became a darkened maw behind them. Take an old fashioned barn, take the ancient outhouse odor, take a techno art exhibit, take an aspirin, and mix together. Make sure it assaults the eyes, and don't step in the human poop still steaming three steps down from the door.

This is one of those bars, nobody ever warns you about, as everyone who does not belong, does not leave. Just like the body on the cross, headless female, clothes torn from the breasts, and groin, a nice little table has been set up in front of her, and a male patron of the bar climbs up to the table top, to the dead body, he boasts, and cheers his partners to form a line, then pulls his pants down. Need we say more? Well, above the cross, a human oriental female head tied in loops of barbed wire to the wood rafter so it would not fall, above that a sign clearly, but sloppily painted, My most Beloved.

Cut to Iswaria's face: Her face is tense, then the muscles go lax, then her lips press together and then rage etches every line. Zestra's hand covers her eyes, and a mental message is sent to her through Zestra's spell, Mental Message. WE ARE HERE TO WIN, GIVE US TIME TO SET.

The hand goes down and Iswaria can see again. The hell, the anger in her breast did not diminish, but did not flair into violence, not in this vital second.

Cut to Iswaria: She moves out straight ahead, holding her anger for just one moment more.

Cut to a survaliance of the Room: On both the left and right of the entrance against the wall are two rows of booths on a two step platform. A variety of people are sitting and drinking, none seem to be part of any security. Jake goes right into this platform of booths. Kranz goes left his shotgun is under his long overcoat along with an ample supply of shells, all slid into many loops, pockets bulging, a military shooting vest, made along time ago, made to go, and shoot humans by an American army long since turned to dust.

To the right where it sunk down to the ground level, a pile of nude bodies, some writhing, some obviously dead, some copulating, all are damned. Perhaps it would be their fate, this band of six, led by Zestra, to become flesh on this pile. To the left it looked more like a camp out orgy of drinking and sex. Women and men are disrobing, and/or putting some sort of clothing back on, those who had finished having sex. Then the small dance floor currently filled with a cross with a headless body, bottle trashed empties, full bottles half out of their cases, and the waiting staff getting drinks into the maw of the patrons. Behind that the bar, it was sloppy, and full of filth, it covered the back wall, even as it made a turn to the right into the deeper part of the bar's interior, making the place look huge on the right. There was a huge dance floor and band area there, and it held the location of the most unused kitchen behind a wall, behind a set of swinging doors, then two sets of double doors, seperate from each other, and an odor that suggested unflushed bathrooms came from the right.

To the right, within the transition to the cavernous part of the bar where the pool tables stood creating a sort of separation of the dancing areas. On the center pool table the demon Scraggletooth in human form sitting on a pool table with two women naked lying down to his either side. There were a half a dozen armed and sober looking guards in front of the demon, and next to the demon there were two huge fat looking men with the look of a sumo wrestler each upon them, both held giant clubs. Zestra makes a beeline towards the demon, never mind that she is giving her back to a small army on the left side of the bar.

Cut to Zestra: She walks up to the demon in human form. Her plan was to get the feel of the place find out where the demon was hiding, she had no plan, but urgency now, Iswaria's will was turned to the morass of mud, she was going to attack any second now, as she would not wait any longer.

Zestra is not challenged, it is her turn, not to wait, not to look to see if everyone is ready. She starts the party with a light show as she banishes the demon. Her hand, touched him, the demon's body, the words she said faded into the background noise, it was done. This banishing is not a lengthy process, touch, instant spell cast, Banish, success, the demon tries to avoid the touch, fails, and a pretty light show begins as he goes home. Seconds from now the bullets, from every gun present start to fly.

Cut to Jake still standing up: He looks surprised and says, What to hell!, now that is a light show!

Cut to Iswaria: She is on her third samurai sword stroke before the light show ends. She is killing on the messy small dance floor in front of the bar, circling the cross, circling her sister, killing all those there making it a little more messy. One swing one dead waiter, waitress, or living body. The bullets start to fly.

Cut to Kranz: He is plowing the bodies, shotgun pump, body dead, shotgun pump, missing face, shotgun pump twofer, one in front one behind, both through the upper torso with a slug shot. He is feeding the shotgun with slug shells in his hand, and pellets in the magazine, selecting the best ordinance for each shot he lines up.

Cut to Lena and Bernie: They are decorating the place, three bullet bursts, human body perforations, blood spattering, the dying, falling to the floor, usually reaching for a gun, aiming a gun (at them,) or just in the line up of targets for their smg's. A thirty round magazine dries up, and in the second it says in the manual to open the breach, they have it done, that is breach open, detach magazine, tap magazine for sticking, insert with sufficient force to feel it lock into place, close breach (this loads the first round from the magazine, and sets the safety on) then flick the safety off, aim, and fire. All this was done in the magical second it is suppose to take opening the breach. This is a Colt Sagun, 45 caliber bullet from the 1911 fame, a Pistol / SMG / Carbine, 2097 model, an Either, And, Or gun, affectionately called by the owners. Americans used this in the third Asian/China war, lost the west coast of America, and surrendered. The Chinese had all these weapons, the Colt Sagun's destroyed in the treaty, and they were all but a few destroyed.

The decorations, human bodies, being made by Lena and Bernie were topping the charts, setting a trend in the dead body falling fashion circles, but this is not enough to stop the mass of individuals from firing at Iswaria, or Zestra, or return fire at them, Lena and Bernie. The cultists might actually aim, and hit something too, it could happen. The bullets danced on the floor, into the walls, and even found exit within the entry to this bar, or on the ceiling a hole, and then a little dust trail towards the ground, all on the way to try and kill our hero's, the bullets were everywhere.

Cut to Zestra: She faces the sumo wrestler on the left, he is on the pool table and has a clear advantage, as he was close to her flank and higher than Zestra. He wields a big wooden club with metal spikes driven through it, aims it for her head. She attacks the club and breaks it off, leaving a small useless shaft in his hands. She is not waiting, and leaps up onto the pool table with him, then without slowing, she continues forward her right tiger paw hand gripping into the lower lip and chin, her left was the real attack and rips a strip of flesh off his upper right ribs, then her right lacerates the flesh of his chin and lower lip, pulling off the fatty supple muscled flesh of the face. Her attack continues, the right slides into his throat, gaining depth, blood welling up about each of her fingers. His throat is gone, ripped away, and for good measure a right handed tiger paw to the side of his head, placing five holes into the side of his skull. The sound of the sumo wrestler dying, the human anguish of a ripped out throat. The five new holes in the head were far less bloody than the throat as the blood was no longer being received by the brain.

The next Sumo wrestler on the pool table swings his club with all his force. The Zestra's instinct is to attack the club, the rebar installed into the wood for a spike shoots out with the crunchy sound, then her hand takes a piece of the clubs striking face out of it like it was made of cotton candy.

Cut to Jake: You don't see Jake, but those about him are shooting at the floor, and being kicked with a semi rust colored sparkling grotesque clawed foot, and pulled into the floor, with blood spatter. Gushing guts come out too from the lower torso, the wounds being made are horrific, and being made by a flashing foot of death kicking up from the floor. One, two, three, four, and more bodies go down, as if they were in a grotesque cartoon of violent death.

Cut to Iswaria: She is taking bullets, mostly from the right, Lena and Bernie are good, but there are too many of them to stop them all in the first few seconds. The demon worshippers also are fearless, staying wide open to fire upon Iswaria; they somehow have a focus upon her. The mage armor spell is saving her from most, if not all damage per bullet, but some are burning the skin in grazes, and settling into her body, like a burrowing tick. She screwed up, she should have attacked the body guards. One of those has a legacy weapon a forty four magnum revolver, Smith and Wesson Model 29, made in the nineteen hundreds, six rounds, high velocity bullets. The first bullet thumped her, slipping through the Mage armor like it was not there, then drove a hole into her lower left torso, an inch from the outside. Screaming, she yells, Kranz, Kranz,

Cut to Kranz: He has finished his gallery of demon worshippers, and had just shot two down to aid Lena and Bernie. The cry from Iswaria is heard, his left hand is empty, no solid shots held, he just has the shotgun tube magazine filled with pellets, his next shot in his internal magazine is buckshot, the range is no good for him to cover the dance floor. He looks at the dance floor, then beyond, his hand is reaching into his pocket of solid shots, three fat rounds fit his palm nicely, it is a shooter, a pistol, the threat to Iswaria. Open breach, aim, insert solid shot shell, close breach, and fire. The target is hit, and killed. A solid twelve gauge shot does not make a small hole.

Cut to Iswaria: She is shot again by the forty four magnum, upper torso, lung just next to the heart, she is not calling for help again. She should lay down, and die. She should, but she is not going to leave her sister hanging on a cross on display. What is human endurance to human will, to soul, to what you do? She gets up on the table, once a fierce blow, twice a fierce blow, thrice a fierce blow, and then the last fierce blow. It was both feet, waist wire cut, right hand, and left hand, and the body fell to the table sliding off of her, and then off the table. Plop it was on the floor, making it even more filthy; It was without hands, feet and part of the torso, but was no more a body on display.

There was still a head wrapped in barbwire, under a sign. Her sword would not reach, she had no more, nothing, no breath, no beat of heart; it was nothing that held her upright, some would say the perfect balance of the human body to the world. She could do nothing but fall, she could fall faster, and chose this. She slid off the table like her sister and ended up tangled in her body, then her sisters head tumbled into the mess of flesh blood and bone. By throwing herself down, she was able to throw her samurai sword up. The samurai sword hung there unbroken burried eight inches deep, up in the wood rafter, unsung, and waiting for a hand to fill its grip. Having severed the strands of barbwire that held the head in place, having stuck into the wood rafter, it waited for that human hand, the human body attached, and breathing, to make it a working sword again.

Cut to Rear of bar: There are reinforcements coming in, just a half dozen, spreading out to give cover for more bodies to enter.

Cut to Kranz: He had finished, Lena and Bernie are finished laying out the demon worshipers on the left side. Decorations everywhere, some still moaning, breathing their last, and the carnage, it seems quiet, after all the roar of gunfire. Zestra yells, Retreat! Kranz, already near the permanently open exit, has already peaked out, and yells, Reinforcements, Lena, you are up with the Puppydog!.

Cut to Zestra: She runs up to Iswari's body, laying on top of her sisters macabre, bloodied, and chopped up body, her hand shoots down to the neck flesh of Iswari. It is not a blow, but a touch, feeling for a pulse, waiting that terrible second that lasts forever, Zestra's hands of tiger slaying death were soft, feeling instruments looking for life in a lifeless body. It is done, and Zestra moves on toward the enterance.

Cut