Fuckno Wars Chapter 2 Hello Can You

This is the first part of Chapter 2.

I apologize for the missing week, but I had some bodies to bury, and others to raise up.

Now Listen:

Blood Is Thicker Than Water, by Black Label Society

In a darkened room, do Walkins make noise?

No.

I wiped my eyes again.  Nothing would erase from my eyes the pale blue faces staring at me in the pitch black room.  Joey (I mean, Lion Man) shined his flashlight on the floor as he walked out from the empty stacks of books.

He was bookless.

The back of my head throbbed, and Tellesco (I mean, No One) took the bloody t-shirt away from the mess on the back of my head.

Guess I was done bleeding.  Gobless him.

Joey shined his flashlight all around on the walls and ceiling and said, “You two are fucking crazy.  Ain’t no one here.”

Tellesco said, “Except for me and you, and Mr. Will here.  OK.  I get it.  Now help me with Mr. Will.”

Joey said, “I’ll help you two get the fuck out of here.  This was a bad idea.  We done.  Weeeeee-ill needs help.  I won’t risk him.”

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Big Bryan was not alone as he made his way to the hell-hole of a burned ranch.  

She smelled like the Joshua Tree flower, when it blooms in the spring rains.


She whispered in his ear.



"Sssssshhhhhh.  It will all make senssssssse."

It gave him the shivers.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Down on the south side of Fuckno, a Walk-In finished eating his late night meal.   It was not a meal that you might enjoy.  He felt full from an evening of various choices.

That particular epicurean gastronomosity involved the ears of one who was now earless, and also dead.

The scent of his breath as he burped was not something that anyone should ever experience.

He waited, and he was rewarded:  Seen heard some new things.

He heard some whispers.


"I'll pay you tomorrow, honest!"



"What the fuck happened to my rock?  What the fuck!  Did you smoke it?!"




"I'll do it, I'll do it.  Hand me the knife.  Just smoke me up now."

You hear, those voices echoed down the alleys of avenues and side streets.

Groan from a bruising,



plead for help,




beg for another front,




promise your life away...






Perhaps someone will hear you.

Seen smiled and wiped his mouth on the back of his gloved hand, and he arose.

How many bodies now, five?






There were five who watched him as he did things to their bodies that they could no longer feel.




They needed to get back in their body,



a body,



anybody.

This was how the Walk-In built an army of Walk-Ins.

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

.