DUET FOR THE DEVIL
By
t. Winter-Damon & Randy Chandler

This is the longest night of all. Gateway of the Great Night.

This is not the first night He shall break the First Commandment of lord Yahweh. Not the first night He shall break that named by canon The Sixth of The Fifth…But it is the first night that He shall serve the Circle of Twelve as the Collector of Souls…

* * *

Half an hour after the shooting, a caller to the Downers Grove PD says, "I WANT TO REPORT A MURDER. A MASS MURDER. A SNIPER JUST KILLED A BUSLOAD OF KIDDIES. THE WEAPON WAS A 4.7-MM. IT HAPPENED DOWN ON ARCHER. OR SHOULD I SAY, 'SAGITTARIUS,' THE LATIN TERM. AFTER ALL, THIS IS THE ZODIAC SPEAKING. BEWARE. I HAVE RETURNED AMONG YOU TO FULFILL MY DIREST THREATS…"

* * *

The mirror returns his reflection as if it wants to get rid of it as soon as possible, spitting the distasteful image back to its outlandish source. The latex on his face has been applied unevenly, giving his face a freakish facade, certain to draw unwanted attention. But then, Slice is no makeup or special effects artist… GOTTA DO BETTER THAN THIS SCUMBAG, says the voice in his left ear.

What the fuck? Who is that? He looks behind himself, than glances all around the room. The woman's naked, mutilated body is on the blood-soaked mattress, just as it should be. No way SHE said anything. She's got a mouthful of fucking intestine. Who said that?

YOU LOOK LIKE A FUCKING REJECT FROM NIGHT OF THE FUCKED-UP DEAD. LIKE A RETREAD GETTING READY TO BLOW OUT BIG TIME…

Who are you?

WHO DO YOU THINK I AM, YOU ANUS? GET THAT SHIT OFF YOUR FACE & START OVER. WE'VE GOT PLACES TO GO. PEOPLE TO DO…

It ain't that bad. You can't see the New Flesh, that's the main thing. & it's dark out. Who's gonna see?

IT'S GONNA GET A WHOLE LOT FUCKING DARKER BEFORE WE'RE FINISHED, MR. HYDE…Slice begins peeling the latex mask from his face. Blue pebble-like flesh is revealed as each piece of latex comes off. Beautiful, isn't it?

WORDS CAN'T BEGIN TO DESCRIBE IT, ZIT SUCKER. DO IT RIGHT THIS TIME. THAT FUCKING WHORE YOU DID IS STARTING TO STINIK. & WE'VE GOT MILES TO GO BEFORE WE SLEEP.

I know who you are.

OF COURSE YOU DO, SHIT STICK. YOU'VE ALWAYS KNOWN ME.

But I was never sure…

WELL, YOU CAN BANK ON IT NOW, HEMORRHOID.

You shouldn't talk to me like that. I'm the New Flesh.

I'LL TALK TO YOU ANY WAY I WANT TO, SCOURGE OF THE EARTH. WHO DO YOU THINK MADE YOU WHAT YOU ARE?

Blue Devil made me what I am. Not you.

THE MOON IS BLUE, BUTTFACE. WHERE DO YOU THINK THE FORMULA FOR BLUE DEVIL CAME FROM?

The one called "Professor."

BULLSHIT, ASS-LICK. BLUE DEVIL IS MY FERTILE SEED. & YOU ARE MY FUCKING OFFSPRING. NOW SHUT THE FUCK UP & FIX YOUR FACE.

With encouragement from his unseen companion-the voice in his left ear-Slice re-applies the latex skin.

A fly lands on the nose of the corpse on the mattress & crawls into the black blood-encrusted cavern of her nostril, looking for a good place to lay her eggs. It scuttles down the back of her throat, stopping just inside the ragged piece of intestine lodged against her uvula. The fly lays her eggs there.