The Field of Armageddon - Part One

[darknation]

The apocalypse came, and it was live on CNN.

Max watched it all from the comfort of his living room. Satan made a brief party political speech, focusing on the fact that humanity was fucked anyway so they might as well be on the winning team. Jesus declined to comment, having just arrived on earth that morning and suffering from severe jet lag.

The battle was about to commence. Satan’s army was huge, filled with badass bikers and whiney teenage Goths in Manson t-shirts. Here and there was the occasional historic figure; Max had spotted Hitler in the rear ranks giving autographs to a bunch of skinheads.

Then there were the demons… horrible looking things. Spiky brown bastards and machine-creatures, all laughing and giving the reporter the finger.

The camera then flicked over to the Forces of Good. All two hundred and thirty seven of them. Jesus looked pretty pissed off about this. Most of his army had stayed at home to watch the battle on TV. Max didn’t fancy their chances much, although Mother Teresa looked mean as hell with a heavy chaingun and bulletproof wimple. He wouldn’t want to fuck with her.

Gandhi was there, though he was slinking about the rear lines on hunger strike refusing to lift a finger. The pope was reportedly on-route from Rome with a small force of Vatican Ninjas, but Max doubted the old man would even turn up.

Without warning, Satan’s army of ten thousand opened fire on the Holy Warriors. Fireballs and bullets rained down on them, shredding a battalion of nuns before they could even raise their rosaries against the onslaught. Jesus and his saints reacted, leaping onto their white horses and leading the charge.

The situation looked hopeless to Max as he watched through the eyes of the CNN battlecam, affixed to the roof of a news-van trying vainly to keep up with Jesus’ horse as it pelted towards the enemy position. The two forces collided, Jesus swinging his blue sword back and forth, severing demonic limbs and Goth heads with each mighty sweep. The bullets of the enemy ricocheted harmlessly from his Holy Aura as he and the Saints carved a bloody swathe into the enemy.

Mother Teresa stood on a hillock of scorched earth, her chaingun ripping into the horde before her. Max was never very good at lip-synching but he feel the stream of foul language escaping from her mouth.

The left flank of the demonic army crumpled and fled. A chrome Cadillac with machine guns mounted on the bonnet had staged a sneak attack and was leading a convoy of limos and monster trucks. John Paul II was in the driver seat of the Popemobile, obliterating the flank with holy bullets and running over their broken corpses with his wheels of steel.

Then, disaster struck. The center of the evil army split down the middle like Moses parting the red sea and Satan himself joined the fray, drawing his black sword and screaming over the top of the battle:

“Come oan then Jesus, square go like! I’ll fuckin chib yih, ya pansy faggot!”

Jesus broke through the thin line between him and the open ground surrounding Satan. His blue glowing sword flashed and he spurred his white horse towards his mortal enemy.

Then something bad happened. Really bad. Satan dropped his sword when Jesus was about twenty feet away and pulled a rocket launcher from a hidden holster on his back.

“Stitch this then, ya fuckin radge!”

The rocket flew from the barrel in slow motion. Jesus tried to stop his horse, the white beast flailing helplessly at the sodden ground as it applied it’s horsey brakes. It was no good.

A mighty explosion lit the sky and fields of Armageddon turned red.

Bits and pieces of Our Savior rained down on to the assembled armies.

The demons roared.

The good tried to flee the battle, but were cut down mercilessly as Satan’s force surged forwards. The Popemobile was overturned, the demons ripping at the chrome panels like satanic tin openers. Mother Teresa was torn from her perch and mangled before Max’s eyes. Gandhi was overrun, the Dark lord himself stuffing meatballs down Gandhi’s mouth until the monk’s stomach exploded.

The camera went dark.

[Fletcher`]

heh

[Zell]

lol very funny. :D loved the part about forcing the meatballs down ghandis throat, very orginal :P

[m0l0t0v]

HEH! Don't fuck with Gandhi!

cool story BTW :-)

[darknation]

heh, thanks.

[Python_Junkie]

Don't quit your day job, if you have one, that is...

[Job]

Python_Junkie said:

Don't quit your day job, if you have one, that is...

Harsh.

[Use]

Maybe I don't know, but somehow I doubt a rocket would stop Jesus. Even a satanic rocket.

[darknation]

Python_Junkie said:

Don't quit your day job, if you have one, that is...

Writing is my day job you ass.

[Job]

darknation said:

Writing is my day job...

Out of curiousity, what is that job? I'm wondering since I'm an English major (though I plan on teaching).

[darknation]

at the momment I'm doing web content with snakey to try and earn some cash. It's a legal high site, so don't ask. I've got to present product using the words and wisdom of the stoner franchise.

On top of that I'm 15'000 words into my first novel, New Apocrypha.

[Job]

darknation said:

at the momment I'm doing web content with snakey to try and earn some cash. It's a legal high site, so don't ask. I've got to present product using the words and wisdom of the stoner franchise.

On top of that I'm 15'000 words into my first novel, New Apocrypha.

Always neat. I can appreciate someone who writes novels -- I've tried myself. Hard work, since it takes forever to produce something I'm actually satisfied with. As for your novel, maybe you'll let me check it out sometime -- judging from the title, it sounds like something that'd be published in "Fangoria" or something.

[darknation]

Since you asked nicely....

this needs to be edited obviously, but it's really the only small segment that stands alone right now. First draft and all that jazz, kindly ignore the horrible errors scattered throughout.

------------------------------

Noah’s Ark ploughed through the waves. Noah shoved the day’s shit over the side and into the deep.

He wasn’t the real Noah, not strictly speaking anyway. In fact his name was Dave, a retired car salesman from what used to be New York. It would of distressed Gimp to know that Dave was also utterly insane. Not just twitchy like Sayless or Robbie, but deep down insanity, the kind that drives people to murder their family and make furniture out of them. Or build a giant Ark in their back garden.

Dave’s insanity had started nigh on twenty years ago whilst polishing an old Chevy in his lot. The various cleaning and petrol fumes had taken their toll on Dave’s already cracked mind, and he had been blessed with something of a vision. He saw the waves rising, the sea coming back to claim the land. He saw the Great Flood and purple giraffes, for some reason.

Dave became a grade A nut. He sold the used car business and bought a shipload of timber, which he used to build a ship. His neighbors, kindly people at heart, put up with the scaffolding and the midnight hammering emanating from Dave’s backyard. They drew the line when a squad of spider monkeys escaped from Dave’s garage and legal proceedings were reaching a head when the predicted apocalypse arrived bang on schedule.

When New York sunk, no one was more surprised than Dave, now officially Noah by deed poll.

The final moments of New York saw Dave raiding New York Zoo with a stolen Volvo haulage truck and a sawn-off shotgun. Saving the animals had proved trickier than he had originally envisaged. There had been a fair few accidents, Dave nearly lost a leg to a Grizzly Bear and there had been a mix up with a pair of gay zebras that had proved very embarrassing. But, by and large, Dave’s Ark contained a pair of malnourished animals from near a hundred species. Yes, there had been sacrifices… Yes, Dave had been forced to feed a few pairs to the lions now and again, and now even the herbivores were chowing down on fish. Nevertheless, it had been good work in a bad situation and Dave had been justly proud of his actions. He was sure God would have approved.

The flood had lasted more than the predicted forty days and forty nights. Dave had lost his Bible to a hungry family of hamsters, which had seemed to enjoy eating the Holy Book but in the long run had more enjoyed eating each other. It didn’t matter. Being honest, the Bible was long on God and short on Practical Advice for wannabe Arksmen. The bloody animals were escaping all the time. There was a pair of breeding tarantulas hiding somewhere below deck. On the positive side, this had eradicated the remaining rogue members of the hamster factor. Dave’s arms were scarred from a thousand bites and his blood ran clear with rattlesnake venom. In between hallucinations and fending off constant sneak attacks from the Ark’s inhabitants he had found his day filled with shit shoveling.

The water plopped and Dave continued casting the dirt overboard. Bringing a shovel had proved to be the limit of Dave’s forward planning. Behind him, a family of treacherous cannibal beavers plotted on how best to bring him down.

Dave’s Ark plowed on unheeding through the waves with no one but God at the helm and on a direct collision course with Gimp’s Island…

[Job]

Strange (which is good)...it reminds me of stream of consciousness writing a bit. I'll have to post some of my, now defunct, novel up. I wrote it before we invaded Iraq and it was meant to predict what would happen after 9-11. Frighteningly, some of it was true. Heh.

[Captain Red]

Use3D said:
Maybe I don't know, but somehow I doubt a rocket would stop Jesus. Even a satanic rocket.

Well, I guess he could still resurrect himself...

BTW DN, will their actually be a follow up to this? Or is the title just for laughs?

[darknation]

Yeah, there is a story in my mind for part 2, and maybe even part three, but it's not exactly high art.

If people want it then I'll do it.

[toxicfluff]

Off the topic but on the religious theme, I reckon Blainey boy is gonna get killed and resurrected 3 days later as his next stunt. Then probably get hailed as the next messiah by all his gullible fans.

I really hold a special type of hatred for blaine, I was praying for an assassination while he was stagnating there in his stupid dangling fishtank - but at least he got egged I guess. Some of the good old british hostility is still around evidently.

[Ultraviolet]

darknation said:

If people want it then I'll do it.

DOOOOO IT!!!

[Captain Red]

Ultraviolet said:
DOOOOO IT!!!

Seconded.