The Fuckno Wars CH 32 Reflection

We Don’t Live Here Anymore   by Jakob Dylan 

The alley was lit by the weak light of the red moon above, with shadows cast by tall elm trees.  A large, young man got up from his knees and wiped his face off with a rag.

His soul was hidden in a corner of his mind, for it had been over taken by another. 

Not an alien nor a demon. 

Something else. 

A Walkin had come to town.

This particular one had become infected by a cannibal.  It was his own damned fault.  He had eaten the flesh of the dead.  And now he wanted to eat the flesh of the living.

He had just finished with his latest meal.

His belly was full.  It was distended.  But the meal had been very tasty.  He wanted more of this.  The hunger of a cannibal is not satiated by a full belly.  There is no end to such hunger.  A full belly is an intrusion upon such a hunger.

It is the desire to eat, not the full belly that a cannibal desires.

Seen staggered with his stretched out belly and placed one hand on the wall of the building to his side, and he placed the two middle fingers of the other hand into the back of his throat.

The emptying of a belly affords the opportunity to eat more food.

The relief of such an expulsion of a large meal was a rush to him.  He had been doing this all evening, you know.  It was a behavior that a new cannibal must learn, evidently.

However, the original intent of this particular Walkin had been to put an end to the actions of the original cannibal in this tale: Sven.

Seen wiped his mouth with the rag again.  It was a cut-up blouse once worn by the once-lovingly adorned Trish Tocker.

He chucked it and turned to the front of the alley.  Her money awaited him in the van.  She had promised it to him.  He neared the end of the valley and saw a man putting things away into the back of the van.

The man moved like he was injured, yet intent upon his work in spite of that.

Seen admired such devotion to work.  He watched the man clean up the mess.  When the man closed up the rear doors to the van, Seen crouched, ready to charge.

The man steadied himself against the side of the van with one hand and touched the back of his head with the other.  Then he looked over to the building where Seen crouched.  The man’s shoulders clenched up in fear, and he stumbled to the driver’s door.

Seen sprang forth.  He saw his path.  Light of belly and heavy of foot, he would have to cross between the parked cars between him and the van.

The man climbed up into the driver’s seat and pulled the door closed with a heavy thunk.

Seen growled and surged.  He felt the bumpers of each vehicle on his shins and the pain made him see stars, but he was intent upon his prey in spite of that.

The driver looked down and put the van into gear just as Seen smashed up against the window.  The van rocked to and fro, and the man looked into Seen’s eyes.

A connection occurred.

It was a spark.

Seen looked into the eyes of the soul he had just released from her body, and the man in the van saw the face of the one who had just killed her.

Trish Tocker pressed on the accelerator petal and the van screeched its tires and got traction. 

Seen stopped dead in his tracks.  His mind seared with the images of the past.

He had been here before, on this mortal plane.  His duty was to kill---

---kill someone.

An evil man.

One who ate the flesh of his own kind.

What was he doing?

From the dark recesses of his mind, he heard a voice call out, “Help!”

His thoughts went back further.  He recalled many visits to this place, from the origin of eternity, and all along the path, he had helped.

Each visit had been short, as he entered each unconscious, fallen warrior and made them stand up and fight again, and win.  And then he would leave, and visit the darkness again, and wait for the next opportunity to Walk-In again.

He had been heroic, in many engagements through the eons.

But how?

It was all a fog now.

The only thing that called to him again was his belly.

He came back to his infected senses, and he saw the van disappear into the darkness.

Only two red tail-lights marked its existence.

As the van raced off, the two red lamps closed in upon each other and became a single red spark and then faded from view.

Dreaming Of You   by The Coral 

Trish looked into the side mirror to see if the crazy man was running after her van. She saw him in the tail-lights as the van spun its tires, shrieking against the tar and creating a cloud of smoke.  He just stood there, washed in red-lit smoke.  He seemed stunned.  What the hell was going on? His figure shrank and faded into the darkness as she drove forth, and she wiped her face with the back of her hand.  She was sweating.

The watch on her wrist bumped her nose and she looked down at it.  It was big.  It was a man’s watch.

She looked at the back her hand and it was hairy.

The man in the red tail lights had killed her.

She began to relive her death.

“…are we live?”

Her own words echoed from far away and grew louder until it hurt her ears and she realized that she was screaming them out loud.

She stomped on the brakes and the wheels shrieked again in anger.

Trish put the van in "Park" and took deep breaths. 

What the hell was going on? She pushed the images, the memories away from her mind.

She needed to get a grip on things.

She flicked on the dome light and the whole van lit up inside.  She looked back at all of the equipment on the shelves and the broken stand light laying on the floor and the probably-fucked camera in its hard case. 

Jeff was nowhere to be seen.  She had just left him.

Should she go back and try to look for him?

Then she thought, Fuck that. 

He’d left her there on the ground, bleeding from the back of her head, and he’d just run off.  Jeff was a bastard.

Her head wound was making things all fuzzy.  She was hallucinating, that was it.  She hadn’t really been killed or anything.

The crazy man with smeared blood all over his face was just a marauder, stealing things.  He was just trying to scare her away so he could loot the homes.

He took her microphone and scared Jeff away, and the ended up lying on the ground…

…are we alive?

Trish touched the back of her head.  The wound was damp, but the blood was congealing.  Her cut probably had dirt in it, but a scab was forming.  Of course, she would most likely get an infection if she didn’t seek medical attention.

She remembered the first aid kit.  She would use that.  This would afford her the best chance of avoiding an infection.

But what if there was a skull fracture?  What if pouring disinfectant into her wound caused poison to enter her brain?

She realized that she was thinking all fuzzy.  Too much had happened and she should make her way to the nearest hospital as fast as she could, before she lost all reason.

This became her plan.  She turned back to the front and leaned over and up to the dome lamp to flick it off, and in the rearview mirror, she saw Jeff’s face.

Jeff was right behind her?

She swung around to look behind her but no one was there.

She whimpered.

She looked at her hand.

A man’s watch lovingly adorned her wrist.

Her hairy wrist.

The blood on the hairy fingers was from the back of her head.

She used her hairy arm with the man’s wristwatch on it to turn the mirror directly towards her face.

Jeff’s face looked back from it.

She touched her face with her hairy, bloody fingers.

She was Jeff.

It was a hard thing to swallow.


What the hell was going on here?

Panic Station   by Muse 

“Good evening, this is Rock Stickbilker here with the latest news.  Tonight on Cable Unlimited News, we have a report of widespread power outages in the city of Fuckno, Californica, USA.  And also, some funny video footage of what looks to be a prank played on a local television station there during that city’s time of darkness.  But first, a message from one of our great advertisers. If you enjoy nacho chips with salsa like I do, then take a bite of this:  The new Chipotle Cheeze and Beef Chunk Chips, from Rico-Pays.  Mmmm.  They are Chewy!  Now,  (munch…munch)  to the their new ad.  (munch…munch).  It's a great ad!”

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.