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Evil Bill: Grim Harvest (standard:horror, 8076 words) [4/4] show all parts | |||
Author: The Dark Master | Added: Nov 09 2000 | Views/Reads: 3104/2088 | Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
This is the last Evil Bill story in the Saga. This is the most glorious of the series. Evil Bill's fury no longer extends to the inhabitants simple towns...but cities and nations. This is only the beginning of the End. | |||
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story He eviscerated her, mangling the fetuses and spraying blood everywhere, but He wasn't done yet. Bill continued to hack away until her mangled, headless body lay in two pieces, its entire midsection gone. Bill then charged the dozen or so bystanders, spearing them on His blade, then whipped Himself upwards, ripping His blade from their bodies. By now the news helicopter had arrived: fresh meat! Bill shot upward like a SAM, impacting the helicopter at the junction of the tail and body, severing the tail off. He continued right through the rotor, shattering it instantly. The mangled rotor turned uselessly in the air, its blades now devoid of their lifting power. With nothing to keep the helicopter up, it plummeted to the ground in a graceful arc that hid the terror and destruction that would come. The helicopter smashed into the cars stuck on road and burst into fire then exploded in a pillar of flame. The explosion rocked the ground and engulfed fourteen cars in a ball of fire. Shrapnel flew in all directions, shredding the panicking crowd as it raced past the wreckage. Metal and flesh collided in an explosion of blood and death, half a dozen bystanders died instantly, scores more were injured and four more died in the hospital, and that didn't include those in the cars. Now Evil Bill called upon the powers of Hell once more as He recharged His energy reserves. But as He concentrated, a police helicopter flew up to Him with a sniper onboard. A .308 slug ripped through His body as He was caught unprepared. The bullet caused His fuel tank to explode, unleashing the pent up power within Him. A huge explosion expanded from His body, engulfing thirty cars and flinging flaming wreckage everywhere. Shrapnel rained from the sky, destroying dozens of other vehicles. The shockwave was so powerful that it could be seen spreading outward, throwing more cars in to the air and smashing back down again. The fireball then rose upwards, obliterating the police helicopter, leaving a burning, hellish inferno on the ground. Bill's spirit once again traversed the ethereal planes of darkness, only to be vested in the body of yet another machine far away... SCOOORE! A soccer ball rocketed into a makeshift goal. A group of Brazilian teenagers were playing a game of soccer on a farm and the home team had just scored. Their yelling and cheering drowned out the sound of a large motor starting somewhere on the farm. In a matter of seconds, the players' triumphant yelling was now drowned out by another noise...the noise of a piece of heavy farm equipment running at full throttle. An ominous, dark shadow encapsulated the teens in a veil of darkness as they gazed in awe and terror at the smoke-belching horror that was in front of them. "My children, I shall cleanse your unclean souls of their sins," bellowed the machine. A flash of recognition simultaneously went through the teens' minds as they came to the terrifying realization of what was now before them. Uncle José's barn door had been battered down seemingly from the inside. All the teens knew that Uncle José kept only one machine in the rickety old barn...his industrial roto-tiller! The teens tried to flee, but got nowhere; their feet were firmly held to the ground by vines that had grown around the kids' feet. "I see that there are many weeds in my garden. There is only one way to destroy weeds...yank them out by the root!" With that, Bill, powered by His unquenchable thirst for blood, engaged His motor and advanced on the terrified teens. The teenagers' screams were drowned out by the incredible noise of Bill's hellspawned motor. He started with Manuel, whose screams of terror soon turned into screams of anguish as Bill shredded his feet and worked His way up. Inch by inch, centimeter by centimeter, Evil Bill shredded the unfortunate teenager. Manuel's screams were brutally silenced as Bill mangled his lungs, flinging blood and chunks of pink tissue everywhere. Blood gushed out of Manuel's nose and mouth as Evil Bill ground up his rib cage with a sickening crunch. Bill then rolled right over Manuel's head, shredding it with a wet, muffled *THUNK*. As He advanced on the rest of the unfortunate boys, a pool of chunky paste was all that was left of poor Manuel. The great Circle of Life was now complete. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, have no fear my children for you will be forgiven for your sins. For from the Earth you came, and to the Earth you shall return," preached Bill as He advanced on the remaining youths. It was time to listen to Father Bill's sermon of darkness. The other boys continued to scream in terror as Evil Bill advanced slowly. "Your souls are unclean, but don't worry, your time of redemption is here," said Bill soothingly. He approached two boys who were rooted into the ground side-by-side. Evil Bill shoved them to the ground with His psionic powers and then cut across their bodies diagonally. Grapefruit sized chunks of flesh flew everywhere as He minced their legs. He left their eviscerated torsos lying on the ground, their guts spilling onto the blood stained soil. Uncle José wouldn't need to water or fertilize his fields for a very long time. Evil Bill continued to shred the young bodies of His other victims until there was nothing left but chunks of flesh everywhere. As He looked about, He thought about how refreshing and peaceful gardening could be. Not only had He watered and fertilized the soil, but He had also helped out the insect and animal populations of the area; swarms of ants and flocks of hungry birds now converged on the scene. In only a matter of minutes, the only trace of the children was their still-warm blood soaking into the rich, black earth. In fact, Bill had just learned of one of the many benefits of symbiotic relationships; He had provided the insects and birds with freshly-killed meat, and they had picked His blood-splattered rotating blades clean of all meat. Bill thought that this could be a great asset. If these billions of aphids and caterpillars could eat meat as well as plant matter, then they sure as hell could also kill! Overpowering their simple minds with the great darkness of His psionic force, Evil Bill summoned them to His side, calling them to the side of darkness. As He led His army toward the closest city, He wondered just how much pesticide these humans had. Carlos was very excited, Carnival was about to begin and he was up near the front of the crowd that had gathered to watch the parade. Little did he know of the terror that would come. Evil Bill beheld the sight before Him, a small farmhouse was afire, its occupants writhing on the ground in a sea of aphids, caterpillars, and, the king of the jungle, mosquitoes. The unfortunate victims soon succumbed as the aphids, caterpillars, and mosquitoes ate through their skin, and tore their muscles to tiny bits. But long before any real damage was done, the victims began to lose consciousness from shock and blood loss. Within half an hour, the crimson stained bones of His victims, a few chunks of flesh still attached, were otherwise cleaned of their earthly sins. After the slaughter, Bill rolled out, sniffing the air, testing it. After sifting through all the ordinary scents, He found one, the one He had desired since the beginning of this unholy quest. The pungent odor of many peoples' hot sweat, the smell of lust itself, and His favorite yet...fresh blood all mixed into one odor, the Master Scent. This scent would lead Him to a city whose inhabitants, instead of reveling in the mutual joy of Carnival would soon be fleeing in terror from his whirling Blades of Death. This city's name: Rio de Janeiro. The pulsating music and lights wooed Carlos and his friend Pepe to become part of the seething mass orgy known as Carnival. They sang danced around, feeling totally detached from their bodies, and looking like total assholes in the process. But nobody cared; in spite of the failing economy, this was going to be the best Carnival yet, or so it seemed... Terrified villagers fled from Bill's horrific blades, but could not run from His dark followers. As the caterpillars and aphids were too slow to catch up with the shrieking peasants, the mosquitoes made their move. Invigorated by their inbred thirst for blood, the dark cloud of mosquitoes descended upon the villagers. The villagers' cries were drowned out by the droning of the bloodthirsty insects' wings. Millions of tiny hypodermic needles pierced the skin of the victims as the hellish insects began the grim task of sucking the precious bodily fluids from the ripe bodies of their victims. As evening fell over the city, Carlos and Pepe continued to party. They oohed and aahed with the crowd. Suddenly, screams began emanating from one corner of the crowd. At first Carlos thought another float was approaching, then, suddenly a booming voice began to speak. "Enough!" boomed the voice. "You would engage in this orgy of sin?! How dare you! Now thou shalt face the wrath of God. Be repentant sinners, while you can..." At first, Carlos thought it was some drunken fool, but then the crowd began to pull back, pulling him and Pepe with it. Just then, the dark sky was darkened even further as a cloud obscured it. Looking closely, Carlos and Pepe saw that it was a writhing, seething cloud of bugs. Suddenly, Carnival didn't seem so fun. The cloud descended upon the crowd just as a wave of aphids and caterpillars engulfed all. Thousands of bugs coated Carlos, eating at his skin. Carlos flung his arms around trying to get them off. He swatted at them, killing scores...but that wasn't enough to stop them. As with the hundreds of villagers before them, the citizens of Rio de Janeiro were now engulfed by a swarm of insect foes. Screams were cut off as the Horde feverishly crawled inside mouths and noses. Once inside, the throbbing masses began to devour their victims from the inside out. But to Bill, this was only a preemptive strike... Soon, masses of people armed with cans of Raid began to counter the insects' devastating assault. Although He knew that the puny humans could not possibly defeat his Horde, He, acting as an "enzyme," hastened His ascent to victory. A group of adults, armed with cans of industrial-grade pesticide, stood in an alley, spraying the air with a noxious fog. A mound of dead insects, at least 4 feet high and 5 feet wide lay on the ground in front of them. But pesticide alone could not hurt the Chosen One! Bill spotted them and began His grim task; the Blades of Death whirled ferociously in the air. He advanced. The churning blades now ripped up the pavement in front of Him, flinging chunks of asphalt everywhere. The once-brave humans now broke down in tears and knelt before Bill, pleading for forgiveness. "Unbelievers! Infidels! Only now do you try to repent! Only now do you believe! But even now, I can see that deep in your soul, you only beg for forgiveness out of fear and not belief. But I'm benevolent, you shall be forgiven... after you have shed your mortal flesh and its sins, so your souls may be purified." And with that the insects engulfed the terrified mortals. They tried to swat them off, but they kept on coming, more and more, engulfing them all. Among them was Pepe, who had survived the first wave; he writhed on the ground in pain as the insects ripped open his skin, nothing he did helped, they just kept on coming. Soon the pain subsided as his nerves were destroyed, but he grew weak, sleepy, until finally, the blessed darkness of death overtook him. Evil Bill stood over His massive Hordes of Death, satisfied with His handiwork. The streets were coated and streaked with the blood of "sinners" now He reveled in the wanton destruction of the city, as they advanced on the capital building. The President's bodyguards were now dead and he was barricaded in his office, but Bill shredded the door with one swift blow of his blades. The President was huddled in a corner, but Bill fixed that. He shoved the President against a wall and crucified him with pieces of glass. Then in a perverted parody of seppuku, Bill ripped open the President's abdomen. Screaming as his guts spilled onto the floor, the President begged for mercy. "Don't fear, for your time of ascension is at hand, soon you shall join your brethren in the blessed land beyond death, my servant for eternity and more," cackled Bill. The swarm of voracious insects feasted upon the President's entrails as they pulsed slowly to his fading heartbeat. "Oh Lord, if you hear me, please save me, save me," prayed the President. God, nor any other supernatural deity could help the President, but one man heard his cry. Unfortunately, this man heard the call of distress too late; the President sank into an eternal sleep of darkness. After the President expired, the only sounds to be heard in the entire city were the pattering of little feet and the munching of insectile mandibles. But, out of this grim chaos a new sound emerged; the sound of a small, gasoline-powered motor. Evil Bill teleported Himself into the heart of the city to pinpoint the source of this sound. As it turned out, this small vehicle wasn't wandering around the city aimlessly, but was, in fact, homing in on Bill. Using His unholy prophetic powers, Evil Bill was able to envision a great battle between Good and Evil, in which only one force would leave the scene alive. However, Bill was unable to see neither the outcome of this battle nor the face of the withered, old man He was going to do battle with. But enough of this foolishness, He must prepare! Evil Bill called His dark servants to Him, to begin the remora-like cleaning of the Chosen One. In only a matter of seconds, the Great One was once again cleansed of the blood of His victims. He was ready. Evil Bill waited for His foe to arrive. The tension hung in the air like a Campbell's Chunky Split Pea n'Ham soup. Bill was just about to start searching for His foe, when all of a sudden, a white vehicle careened around a corner and stood there idling its engine. A vehicle so holy that it could be only one thing...the Popemobile! And within a bulletproof, waterproof, and airtight Lexan box sat the most widely respected man on Earth: Pope John Paul II. "Fiend! God be very angry at you. You have sinned much and must be punished," croaked John Paul through his microphone. With that said, Evil Bill, infuriated by the Pope's holy words, set the Horde upon his holiness. Countless numbers of mosquitoes impacted into the Lexan box, committing an honorable suicide just like fanatical Japanese pilots in World War II. As the fliers rammed into the box, the aphids and caterpillars covered the box and began eating away at the polycarbonate siding. In a matter of instants, the view of the Pope's vehicle was completely obscured by the layer of insects. Just as Bill was about to leave the Pope for dead, a blast of white light burst from the Popemobile. Bill's followers instantly shriveled up and died as the heat from the light instantly desiccated them. As if on cue, the light faded, leaving a huge pile of dead insects in its wake. Then, strong winds blew and scattered the blackened corpses all over. "Dat vas only a small demonstration of my powver, next time I may not be as unforgiving," chortled the Pope. "Your childish antics do not frighten me, mortal fool. Your time has come, old-man," Bill said demonically. And with that, the great battle began. Bill came down with a vengeance; He destroyed the cab of the Popemobile, leaving its driver in many, many pieces. Bill called upon His minions, and generated a reverse quantum singularity. Out came 20 or so flying monkeys; they began to dive-bomb the Pope. However their power was no match for the holy aura that surrounded John Paul. The pope charged up his staff, and repeatedly shot bolts of white lightning, instantly disintegrating all of Bill's minions. The Chosen One was beginning to get irritated. "Join me in my dark quest and we shall rule the galaxy side-by-side, as father and son," said Bill. "But how can that be," screeched the Pope, "I'm so much older than you!" "Using my quantum singularity I was able to fold the very fabric of space and time and I went back in time and fucked your mom," cackled Bill. The Pope, infuriated by this new discovery, unleashed a devastating psionic assault upon Bill, causing parts of Him to instantly oxidize and fall off. Bill then advanced on the Popemobile once again; His blades ripped open a large hole in the Lexan box. Then, using His dark influence, He called upon His brethren in the sewers to come forth and serve their sith lord. About 20 man-eating alligators emerged from the rat-infested sewers of Rio de Janeiro and crawled towards Bill. He telepathically commanded His brethren to destroy the Pope. As the mass of slimy, hissing alligators advanced upon the Pope, Bill noticed that the Pope appeared to be charging some sort of psionic power, but He didn't care. One of the slithering monstrosities went through the hole in the Lexan box and hissed menacingly at his Holiness. The Pope, unable to get away, howled in anguish as a set of inhuman jaws clamped down upon his tender arm. Hot blood spurted from between the alligator's jaws as the fang-like teeth sliced right through the muscle tissue. Then, with a sickening crunch, the alligator's vise-like jaws snapped the Pope's ulna and radius in two. But the blood-thirsty alligator wasn't finished; it now started ripping his forearm from the rest of his body. Then, with a blood-curdling rip that sounded like cloth being sheared in two, the Pope's forearm was torn off, leaving a pulsating, bloody stump in its place. The triumphant alligator returned to Bill, bearing the Pope's still-twitching forearm in its mouth. He deposited his prize in front of Bill, who, in a blast of dark power, transported the souvenir back to His Lair. Bill was just about to send His minions forth to finish the Pope off when something unexpected happened. The Pope, who had secretly been channeling his powers, now unleashed them. As he held his staff with his functional hand, a white energy engulfed him, radiating power in all directions. Suddenly, a blinding white beam of light lanced down from the heavens and a shockwave emanated from the white point of energy that was the Pope. There was a cracking, rolling, and thundering rumbling that exploded from the Pope as if the sky itself had cracked open. Bill was engulfed in the shockwave, only His shield of evil protected Him. The city around him was suddenly restored to its former glory as it was filled with holy energy. Evil Bill was infuriated by this blatant defiance of His power. As Bill summoned His dark forces to smite the city once more, He suddenly lost control of His once loyal minions. The alligators now turned on Bill, hissing and drooling as they went. Bill engaged and rushed forward to meet the new threat. But Bill encountered something totally unexpected; His Blades of Darkness couldn't penetrate the alligators' hide. It was now encased in a holy Armor of Light. The converted alligators' hide now rendered Bill's once-terrifying blades totally dull and useless. Alligators now chomped down on His hulk, severely disabling Him. Bill, realizing that the end was near, began preparing for His coup de gras. Just before Bill was about to unleash His final blow, the Pope spoke. "Father, I vill join side of Darkness, but first I must do good thing for side of God," said John Paul. Just as the Pope finished his sentence and was about to finish off Bill, there was a great rumbling and a crack 10,000 times louder than a thunderclap, and the earth below the city collapsed inward into a gaping pit. Skyscrapers, parks, businesses, and newly-resurrected people alike hurtled downward into oblivion. In the timeframe of only a few long seconds, Rio, and all of its inhabitants were swallowed whole by the Earth, leaving only Bill and his new ally upon a floating platter of energy. Then, the frigid waters of the Atlantic rushed into the gaping chasm that was once Rio De Janeiro, sweeping away buildings and people like a biblical flood washing away their sins. And with that, Bill expired. GRIM HARVEST PART 2: THE FINAL SOLUTION Promit was playing in his father's machinery shed, a rare thing in the world's largest "democracy." But his family was among the richest in the country, and Promit was a very spoiled young man. In fact, the Neefridi family owned a large plot of land on the central Deccan Plateau. Promit was very bored and was somewhat interested in learning how his family's International Harvester grain harvester/combine worked. Just how did it collect the grain and separate the grain from the stalk? Promit was gonna find out firsthand! Just as Promit had crawled through the rack of blades and was about enter the thresher assembly, he heard the electric whine of a starter motor and the roar of an engine. Promit, now terrified and confused, tried to crawl out through the blades, but froze when they started rotating madly, thrashing the air around them. Quickly turning around, he scuttled the other way...to his death. Promit had just realized his deadly mistake, a second too late. Before his body had a chance to react, he was tossed inside the harvester's integrated thresher assembly to be "processed." A few short seconds later, a stream of bloody bones shot from the grain chute and landed in the collection bin. They clattered on the steel bottom of the collection bin; little Promit's bones would only be one of many sets of bones to land in this bin... Meanwhile, a second stream of "byproducts" poured out from the chaff chute and onto the ground. Suddenly, the doors of the equipment shed flew open and Bill rolled out, His red body and freshly polished blades gleaming in the sun. The indentured peasant workers who tended the fields all looked upon him in awe, not comprehending the danger they were in. Bill revved up His motor and the blades that had once harvested productive grain and fed millions became sinister instruments of death. Rushing the shocked workers, Bill shredded everything in his path. Five workers were cut down, disappearing into Evil Bill's awaiting maw in a puff of pinkish vapor. Seconds later, a stream of watery slush and fragments of bone were ejected from Evil Bill's bowels. The farmers now fled in terror begging the all powerful Allah for protection. But now not even Allah could save their souls. They tried to run but were quickly cut down by Bill's bloodied blades. By now, Evil Bill had reached the Neefridi house. Without even pausing, He barreled straight through, smashing a giant hole in the house. It's cheap construction caused the entire house to collapse, killing all within. But death by blunt trauma wasn't good enough; He ran over the entire house a few more times, picking up the bodies of the dead and "processing" them. When He was finished, the bones of his victims half-filled his collection bin. Soon...it would be time to purify the bones of these sinners; the glue factory awaited! After purging the "toxins" from the Nefreedi family, Bill moved on...to victory! Jawaharthal Kedia was just taking his shower when a great rumbling shook the tiles off the shower's wall. Following proper earthquake procedure, Jawaharthal quickly turned off the shower and ducked under a nearby table. When he finally emerged, he saw the rest of his family of 22, not including him and his wife, were okay. Heading downstairs, the terrified family beheld the awesome sight of Evil Bill in His full glory. "You have built your empire of evil upon the backs of poor peasants, you harvest their souls and use them for your own benefit. For that you have brought upon yourselves the wrath of God. But don't be afraid, for I am the Purifier and I shall wash your sins away in a bath of blood and fire..." And with that, He dragged twelve of Jawarthal's children into Himself. His bloodied blades of darkness shredded their unfortunate bodies and ferried them into His body. By now, He realized how full He was but if He tried, He figured He could fit the whole family into His bowels. With a sudden lunge, His blades sucked the entire family into Himself to be processed; their bodies disappeared into His bowels. Now Bill decided to empty Himself, but where? Suddenly he remembered... a little down the road was a glue factory, the perfect place for His waste. Slowly, Evil Bill moved down the road to His destination. Once there, He summoned His legions from hell once more. The ground opened up beneath the stunned factory workers as winged monkeys and postal workers clawed their way out of the ground. The factory workers were ruthlessly gunned down by the postal workers, the factory workers' bodies then stripped of all flesh. The bodies were thrown by the postal workers into the giant crushing gears of the glue factory, where their bodies were converted into a reddish mucilage. But this was only the beginning; Bill ordered His minions to empty His collection bin so that the bones of the sinners might once again be purified. The glue factory, now belching thick clouds of dark smoke would now serve as Bill's staging area and central command post. But before any major offensive was to be launched, He would have to strengthen His fortifications. To do so would require Him to create more glue. So Bill then sent out His legions of darkness, now armed with scythes and sickles along with their standard weapons to reap their grim harvest... Ravi Patak was just about to water his fields when a faint sound emerged from over the horizon. He couldn't quite make out what was making the sound, but it seemed like a sharp staccato of some kind. He paid no attention to it at first, but over the course of an hour the sound slowly intensified; who or what was making the noise was definitely getting closer. Then a new horror dawned upon Ravi's face as he looked up from his work and beheld the horrific sight before him. On the horizon, stretching as far as the eye could see were rows upon rows of gun, scythe, and sickle toting maniacs. The Postal Workers of two countries, clad in black fatigues, goose-stepped forward, muttering under their breath as they went. Ravi tried to flee, but a hail of lead arched toward him and cut him down as he ran. Ravi would only be one of many to fall on that fateful day. The Postal Workers did the same for all villagers in a 50-mile radius around the glue factory. When all of the villagers had been systematically exterminated, the Postal Workers pulled back, and called for the cleanup crew. A fleet of mail trucks driven by Indian drivers converged upon the scene. The drivers then tossed the bullet-riddled corpses of their fellow countrymen into the trucks and drove back to the glue factory to deposit their grisly cargo. Bill accepted these offerings and ordered His monkeys to begin the dark task of converting their bones and connective tissue into the all-important compound known as glue. Now that he had secured His new base of operations, Evil Bill unleashed His army of darkness upon the land; they goose-stepped their way from village to village, like a malignant plague, spreading death and destruction. Suddenly, Evil Bill decided He needed to celebrate...He had His loyal postal commandos raid a nearby maternity ward. As Bill's stormtroopers surged into the hospital under the blessed cover of darkness, screams of women could now be heard. The stormtroopers then helped the women give birth...with the butts of their rifles. All sorts of juicy noises and screams could be heard as the stormtroopers clubbed the mothers' swollen bellies with the hard wooden stocks of their guns. Those mothers that didn't "give birth" immediately were given special treatment. With a crazed look upon their faces, the Postal Workers extracted their nasty sickles from their equipment bags. Then, with malicious intent, the Postal Workers sliced open the bellies of the mothers. Women screamed in anguish as the children within them were ripped from their uteruses and stuffed into the Postal Workers' mail sacks. After performing impromptu Caesarian sections upon the mothers, the Postal Workers left them there to die, with their bellies still wide open and bodily fluids still oozing from the caverns that were once their wombs. After visiting the berthing ward, the Postal Workers rushed into the nursery, grabbing babies by the armful. They too were stuffed into the sacks, kicking and screaming as more were piled upon them. When the entire hospital had been cleansed of the scourge known as infants, the Postal Workers departed, with their mailsacks full of pissing and screeching babies. The postal workers then piled into their mail trucks and left for the command center, quite certain that their Dark Master would be delighted with their gift. As the Postal Workers drove home, they waved to their winged companions in the air, who were speeding towards the hospital for some fun of their own. Armed with backpack flame-throwers, the little demons flew into the hospital and lit the pilot lights on their flame-throwers. Then, with a twisted look on their little faces, the monkeys unleashed a sea of scorching napalm into the hospital. Women and doctors alike shrieked as the napalm slowly burned away all of their flesh. The demons systematically went through the entire hospital, dousing everyone still alive from the first Postal Worker assault with napalm. When the monkeys were satisfied with their work in the hospital, they left it to hover outside to view the awesome carnage. As they watched, humans ran out of the fiery building seeking refuge in the open space only to be coated again in napalm by the monkeys. In the space of a half an hour, the entire hospital had been razed, its occupants' bodies scattered all around and in the rubble. Cackling with glee, the monkeys returned to their master, bringing with them the charred remains of the hospital patients and doctors. Bill was delighted by this show of loyalty and sent His monkeys out for one more task...find and retrieve an apple cider press. Although there are no native apples in the land of India, the presses for squeezing the juices from them are made there. Knowing this fact, the monkeys flew to a high-tech apple press factory and stole the largest and best press available. They then flew it back to the glue factory where they placed it before the Chosen One. "You have done well, my winged brethren...now let the ceremony begin," chortled Bill as He examined the press. And with that said, the Postal Workers emptied their urine-soaked mailsacks full of infants onto the floor and into a giant, squirming pile. Then, the Postal Workers separated the babies by caste and stuffed them accordingly into large burlap sacks. The flying monkeys read the instruction manual for the apple press, pushed a few buttons on the control panel, and the giant jaws of the apple press opened. The Postal Workers then placed the full sacks of caste-sorted infants in layers within the apple press and began the unholy ceremony. Then, after uttering a few incantations in some strange, archaic dialect of Arabic, the Postal Workers commanded their winged comrades to operate The Machine. A loud klaxon sounded and a red warning light started flashing as The Machine prepared for the dark task ahead. Then, there was a whirring of fan belts and the whine of an electric motor as the gears of death began to turn; the jaws of the press began to slowly close the distance between them. As the jaws closed in on each other, the babies within the burlap sacks suddenly stopped crying, as if they knew that Death was near. Then there was a sickening crunch as the flimsy bones of the toddlers snapped under the great pressure exerted upon them by the press's crusher arm. Only now did the blood-curdling screams begin again, only to be hushed a few seconds later. The blood from the babes that had been collecting started off as a trickle, but soon turned into a raging torrent as more bodies were compressed, squeezing the blood from their now lifeless corpses. Blood poured out from between the sacks and ran down the sides of the machine. The Postal Workers hurriedly milled around the machine, collecting the blood in 50-gallon drums. After the compressing arms had come together as close as the machine would allow, the arms were thrust upward, revealing the blood soaked interior of the press. The Postal Workers then emptied the crimson stained burlap sacks and refilled them with fresh infants, only for the demonic process to repeat itself a few short minutes later. When all of the collected babies had had the precious life-enabling fluid known as blood squeezed out of them, they were given to the monkeys as a feast. When this "blood ceremony" had ended, nearly 200 barrels of infantile blood lay stacked in a dark corner of the glue factory, waiting to be opened and consumed by the Chosen One. "Very well done my children, but now it is time to feed your master," proclaimed Bill. Commanded by their dark leader, the Postal Workers took a barrel of blood, popped the lid, and poured all 50 gallons of its contents into His hungry fuel tank. The fresh blood being poured into Him elicited an almost orgasmic response from the Chosen One; He sighed as the brief period of ecstasy ended when His gas tank was full of "high octane fuel." Now it was time to bring death upon the land. He gathered His minions around Him and said, "Now, like the shadow of Death, we shall spread across the land, bringing death and sorrow to all who have incurred the wrath of God!" And with those words, the flying monkeys and Postal Workers knew that the time to wash away the sins of India in a bath of innocent blood had arrived. The Postal Workers set out, marching down the road to New Delhi between row after row of the burned, mangled, and rotting bodies of dead peasants who had "sacrificed" their lives to the Dark One. Nasheer Dolama skipped along the stinking, pest-infested roads of New Delhi, with its open sewers and cardboard dwellings. Suddenly, a dark cloud of foreboding dread descended upon the city as a rumble and the sharp staccato of many booted feet slamming against earth could be heard in the distance. Then, Indian policemen started running around madly screaming that a great demon and his minions were about to lay siege to the city. It could be only one demon...it was Him. Everyone ceased what they were doing and, working as one, erected a giant barricade made of scrap metal, human feces, and the bloated bodies of dead beggars. When the construction was complete only a few minutes later, a massive barrier 40 feet high and 1000 feet wide now stood in front of one section of the city. But that wouldn't stop Him... As Bill led His legions of darkness toward the city, He noticed something obscuring His view of the target: a giant barrier. But this wouldn't even be a minor setback, for He chose the most direct route past it...right through it! Evil Bill plowed right into the barrier so hard that it exploded inward, raining upon the huddled masses a shower of dead bodies and debris. Bill's legions spread in all directions, burning and pillaging at will. His flying monkeys spread out like the Black Plague, butchering countless numbers of fresh bodies and throwing them into Bill's awaiting maw. Meanwhile, the militia of 2,000 Postmen marched over the fallen wall, goose-stepping towards victory. They loaded their rifles, automatics, and shotguns in complete unison and opened fire upon the stunned onlookers. A hail of burning lead and steel flew into the crowd, brutally shredding tissue and puncturing fragile organs with extreme force. The crowd fell to their knees begging for mercy, but they were shown none. It was time for them to die, and die they would. Evil Bill plowed through the crowd, slaughtering them like their sacred cattle. In fact, not even their cattle were safe as He carved a path of destruction through the panicking crowd. The postal workers and monkeys swept up what was left, killing those who were unfortunate enough to have survived the onslaught. Their mangled corpses were then thrown into a large pile 30 feet wide, 200 feet long, and 15 feet high. The Chosen One engaged His whirling blades and mowed through the bodies, flinging blood and bone as far as the eye could see. He suddenly felt strange and noticed that His blood and flesh tank was full. It was time to separate His evil brew. The postal workers, at Bill's request, gathered netting from the farms on the outskirts of town. After salvaging what they could find, His minions set 10 large iron pots next to Bill. "This pure, refined blood will be the greatest I have ever provided to the glorious Motherland. It will burn in hell for all eternity in my lair of darkness," said the Dark One. Bill laughed demonically as the pots were readied. He started to spill his load into the first vat. The blood poured out and passed through the netting, filtering out flesh and bone and cleansing the fluid of most impurities. All of the vats were soon filled, and it was time to destroy the microscopic impurities within the blood. Using His dark powers, Bill disintegrated all of the final microbes in a blast of psionic fire. All that remained was pure blood. The blood was packaged into barrels and shipped downward, along with the infantile blood that was harvested earlier. And it was now time for the army to continue with its glorious quest. The Army of Darkness advanced upon Parliament, which was surrounded by the Indian Army. With a roar, Evil Bill sent out a shockwave of psionic energy that swept the Indians from the battlefield. Bill then spotted two prepubescent boys that particularly interested Him. He sent His Postal Workers to cleanse them. Attaching their bayonets to their rifles, the Postal Workers advanced upon the boys. One Postal Worker made his move and speared the younger boys', Patak's, neck. Then, as the blade pulled clear of the wound, his companion, Mihir, was instantly splashed with a torrent of blood pumping from the gaping wound, like crimson water from a vampire's drinking fountain. The sound of Patak's throat was inhuman, half moan and half howl. His breath gurgled in his throat, like the sound of blowing bubbles through a straw. Then, as if to show some kind of dark mercy, the Postal Worker leveled his rifle at the dying boy's head and pulled the trigger. The gun bucked in the Postal Workers' hands as Patak's head exploded as a result of the tremendous release of the kinetic energy from the .308 softpoint. Mihir then spoke in broken English to the Postal Worker, punctuated by frequent sobbing. "Why you do this, so bad," cried Mihir. "Your Dark Master has deemed you and your fellow countrymen to be unworthy of His precious blessing. You and your people shall be subjected to the great Unholy Apocalypse that will cleanse this foul Earth of unbelievers and send them to the darkest pits of hell where they shall be subjected to eternal punishment and enslavement by your Dark Master," replied the dark servant coldly. "You will never win," said Mihir. "Once It has begun, It can never stop," cackled the demon that was the Postal Worker. "It never begin, we beat you," screeched Mihir proudly. "It has already begun," chortled the Postal Worker as he loaded a fresh magazine into his rifle. After pulling back the action of his gun, loading a fresh bullet into the chamber, the Postal Worker pulled the trigger. A spout of flame burst from his gun's muzzle; Mihir's head exploded, his entire body jerked backward from the impact. The crack of the gun rolled across the countryside, sounding a death knell that signaled the beginning of the End. Back at the Parliament, the Postal Workers forced the sobbing Parliament members to dig a mass grave for the dead. After dragging the bodies into the pit, the Parliament members were lined up and shot with extreme prejudice, their bodies fell into the blood-soaked pit. The Postal Workers then drenched the bodies in gasoline and set them aflame. The bodies burned to ash in their own funeral pyre, lighting the sky in a reddish glow from the hellish bonfire. Then, coming to the stunning realization that there were still unclean souls in the city, Bill took it upon Himself to take care of the job that remained. Bill then set out on a personal vendetta to annihilate every living soul in New Delhi. He rolled out alone, leaving His loyal Postal Workers behind to tend the still-glowing embers that were once the people of New Delhi. Fifteen minutes later, He found His first victims, a group of thirty people huddled in an alley. His massive hulk cast a dark shadow over the terrified civilians as He began to speak. "Why do you cower in the face of your Dark Master? Have you no respect for your savior? You shall pay for your sins...with your unworthy existences," said Bill ominously. The only answers He got were the cowardly whimperings of the impoverished Indians. Totally denouncing this colorful display of disrespect, Bill decided to repaint the walls of the alley with the blood of sinners! Drawing all of the dark energy in the area into the omnipotent being that was Evil Bill, He advanced on the huddling masses. Screams of utter and bitter agony could be heard as Bill enacted His dark plan. As was proclaimed earlier, Bill did indeed paint the brick walls with the blood of sinners as a thick stream of crimson-stained entrails, flesh, and bones spewed from Him. Cackling gleefully, Bill rampaged around the already depopulated city, liberating the souls of its former inhabitants from the burden of their earthly vessels. Tweet
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