TCC CH 9 INSURMOUNTABLE

A true hero is not invincible. That’s boring. Gadgets and metal suits are for the extremely wealthy.    

When you have nothing and yet you can overcome seemingly insurmountable odds, that is when true mettle is revealed.

The Keeper   by Chris Cornell  

Insurmountable odds.

Them Purple Robes had a new visitor, and they did not know this important consideration.  The cannibal Walk-In known as Sven had come to roost

…and take over?

Them Purple Robes had lost their high priest.  They were vulnerable.

Well let me tell you mistah, all manner of fuck was happening in that Purple Mansion.

You see, that Sven dude had shown up there wearing the skin of the youngest son of the high priest, who was dead now.

He and his beloved had died during a séance those Purple Robes had set up in order to try to contain the very one who infiltrated them now: Sven.  

And then Sven showed up at the front door of that heavenly mansion with his new friend, Sherry.

Let’s start with that part, cool?

Sven walked in with Sherry.

To the armed men, he was Prince Richard, and why did he have the maid in tow?  But they knew his ways, this troubled youth who left the safety of the mansion in the dark of night, and was followed by security of the wealthy family, and then he would return at all and any hours of the day and night, sometimes several days later.

Always in need of a shower in his cottage.

But on this day, he and the maid were freshly washed, and they while they thought this to be odd, what took their attention was that he had a maid on his arm.

Prince Richard was fucking the maid.

Those men smirked at each other as the two walked in.  Sherry guided Sven to the hallway.  Sven thought, Smart Girl.  It also made him consider.  How did she know that he was not familiar with the place?

He did not know that she was Sherry, the girlfriend of Lenny Sustenuto, and she could see Sven for whom he truly was.  He did not know that she sought vengeance against him.

But for now, she would help.

She did not know that Sven would kill her in a bit.

Sven (as Richard) turned back to the men and said, “Where’s the Boss?”

His answer was swift, but inconclusive.  “Your father is busy.”

Sven grunted.  He said, “Where’s my mother?”

Again, no help.  Except for one thing, which was this.  “She is with him.”

Sven said, “I’m hungry.”

Sherry (whom was simply The Maid) said, I’ll fix you something.”

The men behind them made their jokes and such as Sven followed the maid on his arm as she guided him to the galley area.  Of course, there was nothing in the huge kitchen that would fill their appetites. 

Sven enjoyed the scent of the clean woman with her perfume as he followed her.  But he was like Bonaparte with his enjoyment of Josephine.  (Napoleon always told his woman to not wash for three days when he was to return home from conquest.)  Sven enjoyed the scent of a woman, in all manner.  They were tasty, so to speak.

Sherry guided Sven far down the hall and took a right, to the galley.  She had murder in mind, and she knew that she could make a meal.  She would have a taste of Sven.  He might not like that part.  She would steal a 3rd page of his life, like from a power outage when all one has is nothing but pen and paper. 

But do you know, he had many pages to go.

Sven followed along to see what she would do.  He had already made up his mind about her.  As much as he truly felt a connection, he was beyond wary.  He was going to show up at her window in the dark, when she least expected  it, so to speak.

He watched as she went right to the knives, before anything else.  That was her folly.  She should have opened the fridge and brought out food.  Make a show of it for the cameras that watched them.

Sven sidled up to the bar and watched Sherry.  Both of them felt hunger in their bellies for human flesh, but there was no doubt about the security in the place.

She turned back to him and winked.  As she went to the refrigerator, away from the knife, he went around the island and waited.  She bent low to the shelves on the bottom inside, and Sven grabbed her by the hips.

Sherry screamed.   She felt horror.  She stood up and Sven whipped her about and hugged her.  He shouted, “I wanna have some fun again!”

That was for show, as well.

He led her out of the kitchen, away from them cameras there, and he whispered in her ear, “Just one last taste before we eat?”

Sherry exhaled.  She said, “OK, good!  Whew, you took me by surprise!  I’m so nervous.”

Sven said, “Where are your living quarters?”

Sherry had no choice but to show them where she had spent the night before he had arrived in the early morning.

She would bring him to the place where she had been fucking the Chauffeur.

It was at the very end of the long hallway.  There were other rooms for the live-in help.

There was even a break-room, a communal area reserved for the hired staff.  That was where they gathered to gossip about their employers  (…watched by their employers as well).

She showed him to this area and closed the door to the great room there.

New Fang  by Them Crooked Vultures 

Sven held up her knife he’d taken from the counter.  Sherry backed away and Sven said, “I’ll make you something to eat.”

Sherry screamed, and this time, it was not simply from surprise.

Much beyond that, beyond anger at her mistake and therefore her impending doom, it was because she had lost her opportunity for vengeance.

Rage.

Sven wielded the knife but she paid no mind.  She understood that she might meet her end at the end and slice of that knife.  But she would not wield.

She would fight for life.  She would not let this slip away.

Sven stood back as she screeched and dove at him.  He swung the knife but Sherry was intent on her focus, her target.  Sven missed her face and Sherry leapt upon him and they both landed on the floor.

The knife skittered across the hard ceramic tiles and Sven’s head hit the floor hard.

He saw stars.

Sherry bit his cheek and pulled skin away, leaving a bloody hole.  She would not stop.

The pain woke Sven the fuck up.  He punched her face and she fell away with one of his eyebrows.  Blood dripped down in his eye and he got to his feet.  Where was the damned knife?  He staggered over just as the doors to several bedrooms opened and folks looked out.

They were assessing the shituation.  Dare to interfere?  Call the police or hope that the battered woman gets saved by someone else? 

Sherry spat out the flesh and saw a new opportunity.  She hollered at them cracks in each door.  She said, “Help Me!  He’s going to kill me!  He will kill you all!  Fight for your lives!”

Several doors slammed shut but one swung wide open.  It was one of the ground keepers.  Gawblessim for his intentions.

He charged over to the bloody-faced man and swung his fists. 

Sven stepped back and them swings missed.  Sven kicked the man down and went after the knife.

Sherry scrambled on her hands and knees away to the supply closet and closed the door behind her.  She must not lose this opportunity.  She reached up and flicked the light switch.  Cleaning products on many shelves, candles, oil for hurricane lanterns, and other household goods filled the room.   This house was well stocked.

She made the decision that if she was going to take this evil man out, she would have to die along with him.

How many chances does a person get?

She opened several bottles of lantern oil and squeezed their contents out on the floor in the supply room in a large puddle.  She grabbed a long-ended candle tinder that would alight with the click of a button from its butane and stuck the thing in her pants on the backside.  She grabbed the floor duster with the wide head and set it aside.  Then she walked through the puddle of oil to the door.

She listened.

Sven grunted and muttered.  He said, “Time to die.  Time to fucking die.”

She walked backwards through the spreading puddle and snatched up the floor sweeper.  She placed it down on the near end of the puddle and then she squished it into the puddle and slid the mess towards the door.

Much of the puddle slid about the sides of the sweeper head as she ran forth, but it was such a deep puddle that it flushed under the door and into the foot path of Sven, who yanked that door open.

He slammed the knife into Sherry’s throat and then he kicked her down.

Sherry fell back, and she went down, she had a smile on her face.

Sven looked down at her as her body lied there on the tiles. 

Why was she smiling?

He saw the knife sticking out of her throat and the blood spurted out all over the shelves of cleaning products, many of them containing aerosol propellants, and he smiled.

He had killed the bitch.

Now he would eat her.

But her blood did a curious thing.  It did not pool.

It spread in a odd way, and it coagulated.

He saw that the floor was wet.

He smelled the scent of kerosene.

It had been aerated by her use of the floor sweeper.

He looked down at the puddle he had been standing in.

Sven looked back at Sherry as she held the flicker.

She clicked it.

The flame coursed over the floor.

Sven backed away as it closed in on him.

He turned tail as his shoes caught fire.

The puddle from under the door caught fire, and the communal area began to burn.

Sven ran down the hall with his face bleeding from bitten holes in it and he left a trail of burning oil with each footstep.

His path looked like the stones of intention.

Sven did not want to go away.

He did not want to lose this opportunity.

Sherry smelled the liquid about her, seeping into her clothing, as the flames rose up the shelves.

It was very hot now.

She could not catch her breath, but she believed three things:

She had killed Sven.

She would die in peace,

and…

she would finally be with her man, Lenny Sustenuto.

She was wrong on all counts.

The Idiot Kings   by Soul Coughing  

Now, do not underestimate the brainpower of them Purple Robes. They had protected their fortress with many sorts of security devices, including fire suppression.

The thing about kerosene is that is floats on water.  It is oil, you know.

The sprinklers came on, and Sherry felt mush cooler.  She did  not expire, just yet.

But them other folks, hiding behind their doors, well, they came running out when the sprinklers began to do their thing from overhead.

The fiery oil spread atop the gushing water and caught everything else in the communal room on fire.

It was a communal fire.

Them Purple Robes came running down the hallway to the worker’s quarters to fight the fire.

The water in that part of the mansion spread down the hallway and the walls caught fire.

The sprinklers in the hallway activated.

From the communal area, there was the sound of folks screaming for help.  It was an inferno.  The screams began to sound weird.  It was the sound people make when their throats become singed as they burn alive.

Two people came running out of the hell hole.  Somehow, they had opened the door into the quarters to seek safety.

The men in the hallway did not notice the burning footsteps leading in the opposite direction. 

The sprinklers soon put them out.

Inside the burning hell, the sprinklers won the upper hand.  The flames  doused, and the whole place smelled like burnt hair and cooked steak.

It was into one of these dying folks that Gregor walked.

In another part of the mansion,  Christopher the Chauffeur had Walked-In to the body of the oldest son.

Do you know, Christopher was now in a place of power.

He felt the soft pillows, the large bed beneath him that felt like a pile of fluffed down, and he knew that he was good.

All was well.

And then the fire alarms began to scream.

Why couldn’t a good man get a decent night’s rest?

The dichotomy of a man is this:

Those who work the hardest get the least amount of rest. 

Even though they deserve it the most.

Sven would meet his match in that Purple Mansion.

But neither of these two knew this.

They were about to find out.

See you next time for:

CHRISTO

PHER

REBORN

God Help You

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

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