Hell Ascendant Episode 2: Hell Ascendant, #2

By Edmund de Wight

Can someone overcome a lifetime of fear and failure to finally become a hero when Hell comes to Earth?

Hell has frozen over.
Episode 2 takes us to Sin City, Las Vegas. Eternal snow blankets the city. Glaciers race across the landscape destroying everything in their path and monsters prowl the winter wasteland in search of human prey.
A group of loners and misfits are drawn together in an effort to survive. They are pursued by monsters and demons at every turn. When a Prince of Hell demands a sacrifice they are faced with a choice between saving the world or their new friends.

About Hell Ascendant
Hell Ascendant is an episodic series following the survivors who are left when Hell literally manifests on Earth.

The apocalypse arrived without fanfare at dawn on April 1st.
It sounds like a joke, but when Satan himself shouts April Fools it's pretty serious.

According to legend, there are in each generation a few chosen humans who prevent the rest of us from being destroyed. Through their good deeds and their loving spirit, they save the world over and over again. They're not famous saints. They go about their business anonymously, and no one knows how crucial they are to our well-being.
When the apocalypse comes and Hell ascends to the Earth, they might just be the most important people alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ionosphere Press
• Release date: Apr 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201604028

Edmund de Wight

Author of gritty, high octane fiction with a touch of terror and daring heroes and heroines! Visit his website and sign up for the newsletter to receive a free e-book and regular entertaining content.  Ed writes stories that can be classified as either Horror, Science Fiction, Urban Fantasy or Thriller depending on the tale.  Some say Edmund de Wight was found wandering the desert as a baby, others say his mother won him playing craps, yet others say that aliens were spotted near Vegas on the night he was brought into the world. Draw your own conclusions. Edmund has always had a thirst to learn new things. He's pursued such diverse careers as a carnival barker, a cryptologist and linguist in military intelligence, a computer technician, bartender, and owner of a small retail business. He's traveled the world and managed to see the entire USA with the exception of two states. Ed brings a wide worldview to his writing. For hobbies, Ed has pursued hobbies as varied as wood carving, relief printing, sword fighting, and of course, never-ending efforts at home remodeling.  

Book preview

According to Jewish legend, there are in each generation 36 chosen humans, the Lamedvavnik, who prevent the rest of us from being destroyed. Through their extraordinary good deeds and their love, they save the world over and over again. They're not famous saints, though. They go about their business anonymously, and no one knows how crucial they are to our well-being.

ESKIMOS HAVE HUNDREDS of name for snow. There are hundreds of names for Hell. Coincidence?

anonymous graffiti on the Flamingo Casino

1

Iremember someone once told me that a glacier moves about three feet a day; that guy never saw Las Vegas glacier. Vegas glaciers are like crazed horses. They race along, grinding everything in front of them to paste. You know when they’re approaching. They're audible even over the roar of the blizzards that haven’t stopped since the day the sky turned to blood. First you feel it deep in your chest. A subsonic rumble rattles everything for two blocks. Next, a sound like a wood chipper trying to digest concrete blocks tries to draw blood from your ears. Within seconds of this shock and awe sonic assault the actual glacier gallops into view. They lurch and buck like living things. It’s a wall of gray ice defaced with the black smears of pollution and the shards of shattered civilization. Every once in a while a splash of red decorates the ice where some poor soul who was too slow or stupid to flee got ground to paste. Not a lot of people get run over though; most humans caught in the open by a glacier become fodder for the creatures riding on top, the yeti. I call them yeti, God alone knows what they really are. They’re built like eight foot tall silverback gorillas covered in white fur. They have these enormous fangs and glowing red eyes. Whatever part of Hell they came from, it wasn’t one of the parts with fire and brimstone.

I could hear a glacier approaching up Las Vegas Boulevard even from twelve stories up. There wasn’t a lot left of the Tropicana hotel but I called it home. The interior of floors nine through nineteen was exposed to the outside by a crescent shaped hole that looked like the bite of some titanic creature. The room where I lived was on the far side of the building from the bite. Every day I had to climb up shattered concrete to get from the ninth floor to the twelfth. The inaccessibility kept me safe from the roving creatures who hunted in the snow.

A shout drew my attention from watching for the glacier. I leaned against the window to see to the street below. A figure in a tattered blue parka balanced atop a snow covered bus. He was waving toward the shattered facade of New York New York. The faux cityscape looked like Godzilla and King Kong had brawled through it. The remains were then buried in snowdrifts thirty feet high. The figure knelt and began to sweep snow away from the windows of the bus which rested on its side. The figure waved again and another shout rang out. I couldn’t make out the words but the voice sounded male. Six figures crept from beneath the skirts of the headless Statue of Liberty. They trudged through the waist deep snow covering the boulevard toward the bus.

Couldn’t they hear the glacier coming?

The man on the bus stopped his clearing motions and stomped twice. He staggered forward. He must have kicked in one of the windows. He waved once more and then disappeared into the corpse of the bus. The other six people were bundled in ski jackets and layers of blankets, anything to protect against the cold. They reached the bus and two more clambered aboard. Several minutes passed, my forehead was growing numb where it pressed against the window. One of the figures within the bus emerged and tossed a bag to one of the four on the street. An assembly line of bags, coats and other goods found their way out of the bus into the waiting arms of the street crew. That’s when the glacier galloped around the corner ridden by half a dozen howling yeti.

Run.

The warning was a squeak that would have embarrassed a church mouse. I staggered back from the window terrified that one of the yeti might see the spectator in the nose bleed seats.

Oh God, oh God.

Mere whispers of my concern. My knees trembled and I felt ice crawl up my spine. I was safe in my aerie but my heart raced as if I were standing in front of the onrushing wall of ice. They needed to run. They were going to die. I stepped forward to pound on the glass, warn them. I hated myself as butterflies in my stomach robbed my arm of the strength to rise. I felt tears spring from my eyes. I was so ashamed. I couldn’t even risk doing the decent thing and shout a warning.

One of the street crew turned and pointed at the glacier. I think he shouted a warning but it was too late, the glacier was upon them. The wall of ice slammed into the rear of the bus. The roar of impact of metal and ice was deafening even twelve stories up. Shards of metal and plastic erupted like a volcano and the bus spun like a top. The screams of the people were drowned out by the roars of the yeti as they leaped from their perches. The four street crew scattered like roaches when the lights turn on.

Five of the fanged beasts fought each other for access to the bus. They knew that there were tasty morsels within. The sixth yeti leaped to the street and gave chase to the slowest of the four scavengers. I don’t know how someone managed to still be fat after the apocalypse. The runner lost his blanket wrap as he staggered away revealing a broad body. He stood no chance of outrunning the 300 pounds of savage muscle that was the yeti.

I squeezed my hands over my mouth to cover the scream that tried to escape when the Hell beast landed on the runner. Blood geysered creating a Rorschach pattern on the snow. It looked like a dancing clown and I fought the crazed laughter that tried to force its way from my mouth. A man was being ripped limb from limb and I was seeing clowns in his blood. What the heck was wrong with me?

God forgive me; I hunkered down and hugged my knees to my chest until the roar of the glacier receded. I hid until I no longer heard the howls of the yeti or the screams of their victims.

I don’t know how long I waited. It might have been five minutes or it might have been an hour. Finally the sounds outside were gone and I felt that I should look to see if there were any survivors.

The bus looked like a soda can that