With each step a struggle, the metal walker slowly strode across the ruined world.

As the legs rose and fell, steam escaping from each joint through innumerable holes and cracks, the tortured screeching of metal on metal carried across the dead plains.  Beneath the ever-roiling clouds that never broke to reveal sunlight, the monster labored on.

The crew of the machine knew that they would not live to reach safety.  They had ventured too far, and their beacon, their emergency signal, had been dark for many missions now.  They had not the technology to repair it, nor to do anything but try in vain to patch the cracks and continue on.

At the apex of the day, when the dim glow shining blearily through the clouds nearly resembled something akin to sunlight, they would appear, risking exposure to spot-weld metal seals over the worst of the leaks.  They dared not stop the walker, dared not power it down for more intensive repairs; even while it plodded on, the brown grass reached up towards them with long vines.

The monotony was tedious, but the crew of the walker preferred it.  They could still remember, hazily, when they had been attacked by a blight beast.  It was alone, thankfully – it must have been separated from its pack.  There was no knowing how long it had wandered, lost and alone and insane in the wilderness.  But when it found them, when it heard the call of shrieking steam, it charged towards them filled with blind rage and howling fury.

Their gun still worked.  The missile bays had sat empty for as long as the crew could remember, but they still had the gun.  They were fortunate; their walker could pull energy from the air, and from that deadly glowing rock that sat at its core that none of them dared approach, and could turn that energy into brief flashes of destruction.

The crackle or energy, emanating from the muzzle of the long barrel slung beneath the walker’s nose, tore new holes in the flesh of the attacking beast.  Great gashes appeared, filled with shredded, inedible, useless scraps of muscle and gristle and sinew and bone.  But still the beast, spawned of the blight and knowing nothing else, attempted to crawl forward towards them.  Not until its body was scattered across the field for as far as the eye could see did it finally rest.

The crew of the walker had been lucky.  Their machine, their home and world, their bastion of safety, was crippled.  Their movements were slow and labored, and if the blight beast had not been alone, they would not have survived.  They doubted they would be as lucky in their next encounter.  But there was no other option.

The walker’s three-toed metal feet sank deep into the dead brush of the plains as it plodded along.  The vines rose up, curling around the ankles with each step.  The crew knew that, one day, the vines would be too strong, and they would not be able to pull free.  The blight would climb up, swarming over the machine, breaking open the nut to hungrily consume its organic contents.

And on that day, the crew would open up the container that housed that glowing rock.  They would let its glow wash over them, would tolerate the brief pain as they would be reduced to energy.  Perhaps their energy would travel to a new world, one where the last spark of life was not a dying, guttering flame.  The crew did not believe in souls.  They really didn’t believe in anything.

Onward went the walker, forging a path across the desolation.  Above the plains, the crew gazed out at the horizon with dry eyes.  It wouldn’t be long now.

I stared up at Doctor Fear, trying to shake off the paralysis of his magical spell. “Doctor, think about what you’re doing!” I shouted, struggling to make my voice be heard above the howling of the open portal behind him. “You’ll kill us all!”

“I don’t care!” the masked supervillain hollered back, his purple gauntlets glowing with eldritch power as he struggled to maintain the growing vortex. “They all made me suffer! Why should I let them live?”

Finally managing to clamber to my feet, I braced myself in a fighting stance, my eyes scanning around the room from behind my mask. Most of the furniture in the laboratory had been blown away, thrown against the back of the room by the opening of the nether gateway. The corpse of the shambling horror that Doctor Fear had conjured lay across the entrance. I could still smell the burned flesh from my searing Flame Bolts.

I leapt forward, ignoring the stinging pain of the slashes that had made it through my toughened spandex. “Don’t make me have to stop you, Doctor!” I called out. “Just stop the portal! We can all still walk away from here!”

“It’s too late, Mister Amazing!” Doctor Fear fired back. “I don’t deserve to live here – you all have made that abundantly clear. And if I can’t be a part of this world, no one will!” He spread his arms wider, and fresh surges of black magic flowed into the growing portal.

Around the edges of the shimmering gateway, I could see dark shapes, gibbering horrors that wanted nothing more than to spill out into our reality. On the far side of the opening, a long tentacle snaked forward, reaching down into our reality. I hurled a Flame Bolt at it, frying it into crispy calamari.

Feeling every injury, I staggered forward. Beneath his mask, Doctor Fear’s eyes rolled towards me, but he was directing every fibre of his being into opening the portal. “Please, Mister Amazing!” he called out, and now, closer, I could hear the undertone of fear and hurt in his voice. “The anger, the hatred towards me – it hurts! It cuts every second, like a million knives!”

Only a couple steps away, I stopped, torn. I knew what the other superheroes in the League of Justice would do. There was a deranged supervillain, and there was a portal to a nightmare dimension. Combine the two, and all the problems would go away. But while that approach would appeal to some of the grittier heroes in the League, like The Punishment, it just didn’t sit well with my conscience.

I glanced over my shoulder at the portal. It was nearly open, and more tentacles were spilling out, nightmares taking shape in our waking world. “Lord, I hope this works,” I muttered to myself, and then lunged forward, extending my fist.

My knuckles slammed against Doctor Fear’s head, and I saw the supervillain’s eyes roll back in his skull. He dropped, boneless, to the floor, and the glow of evil around his fists winked out. I spun around to stare at his summoned portal. With no more power feeding in, would it collapse? Or would it stabilize, converting our world over to a tortured hellscape?

Tentacles now extended out in all directions, thrashing on the floor and knocking the scattered instruments in the lab about. But as I watched, the circumference of the gateway began to slowly contract. No matter how the tentacles struggled, the closing edge cut into them, sending gouts of purple gore spewing across the floor and ceiling.

I slowly advanced on the closing portal, summoning the energy from my tired bones to throw Flame Bolts at the last few bits of flesh. I wanted every trace to be seared away, so that nothing could spread. A minute later, the portal shrank to nothing, winking out of existence.

I turned back to Doctor Fear’s prone body as, just outside the building, I heard the tell-tale roaring of the Justice Jet’s engines. The man was already beginning to come to, and his eyes blinked hazily at me as I squatted beside him.

“You should have let me die, Mister Amazing,” he rasped, the words barely audible. “It’s what I wanted.”

I reached down and laid my hand gently on his shoulder. “We all have struggles that we must overcome, Doctor,” I whispered, tenderness shining through my voice. “You have many demons, but I believe that we can overcome them. Together.”

I heard the booted footsteps of my fellow heroes approaching from down the hall. I reached down and slid a hand under Doctor Fear’s arm, hoisting him up to his feet and supporting him with my own body. I knew that the man would spend time in the Supertropolis Asylum, but the psychologists and therapists there were the best of their profession. And I believed that anyone, even a villain like Doctor Fear, could be rehabilitated.

I glanced over at the other hunter as we trampsed through the woods. It was early February, a rare warm day after a cold winter. The snow hung heavy on the trees, and the silence of the forest was broken only by the occasional wet plop as a chunk of melted slush fell from a branch to the floor below.

The other hunter’s face was set in an angry grimace, and he clutched his rifle tightly to his chest as he stomped through the brush. He had shared the cabin with me the night before, but had been anything but friendly.

If anything, I had to admit to myself, he had seemed… vengeful.

Suddenly, the man held up one gloved hand, signaling a halt. In a flash, even as I came to a stop in the wet snow, his rifle was at his shoulder.

“Do you see anything?” I whispered, trying to peer through the leafless twigs. I didn’t see any movement, but the man nodded, peering through the scope of his rifle. The weapon barked in his hands, and I saw a patch of brown suddenly resolve itself into a deer, jerking away.

The animal was clearly wounded, but it still bounded away, and the other hunter cursed loudly. His hand racked back the slide of his rifle, chambering another round. “Shut up!” he roared.

“I, I didn’t say anything,” I began, confused.

“Not you! Him!” The man spun around, his rifle still up at his shoulder. The barrel swung past my face, and I threw myself down to the ground, flopping into the snow in a mad attempt to avoid being shot.

My newfound hunting partner was clearly insane. He fired off another shot, over my prone body. “Stop running and face me like a man!” he shouted out into the forest.

“Are you insane?” I hollered up at him. “The damn deer’s gone!”

“No, he’s circling! Taunting me!”

Terrified, I lifted my head up from the snow. To my surprise, I did see a flash of movement in the trees around us. As it moved from tree to tree, I saw that the deer was still hanging close. It paused between a couple of large oaks, and I could swear that it seemed to be moving its lips at us.

The man let out another yell and pulled the trigger of his gun again. This shot finally connected, and the deer collapsed down onto the ground.

Moving with caution, I lifted myself up to my feet, brushing the loose snow off of the orange vest I wore over my coat. “Good shot?” I offered, glancing warily towards my unhinged partner.

He was still wearing a scowl on his face. “Fucker,” he cursed, spitting in the direction of the deer. “Well, I shut you up! Who’s impotent now?”

This man was clearly insane. “Listen, I think I’m going to try branching off in this other direction,” I ventured, cocking a thumb over my shoulder in the opposite direction.

The man finally took his eyes from his dead prey and looked at me. His face seemed to relax, losing some of the anger, but I kept on edge. “Suit yourself,” he said in a much milder tone. “But all the deer are off in this direction. Trust me on that.” His face tightened with anger again. “I can hear ’em mocking me.”

As I slowly backed away, the man jerked his rifle up to point into the branches of a nearby tree.  “Shut your damn holes!” he shouted, pulling the trigger again.  I saw a squirrel go scampering away, chattering in the branches, as the man fired another shot after it.  “I’ll get ya!  I’ll get you all!”

I turned tail, not running, but definitely not walking slowly.  Time to get out of here, I decided.  This was probably the wise choice.

As I landed on the ground, the world took a sickening lurch, and I landed on my hands and knees. Shaking my head, trying to dispel the brief wooziness that accompanied a jump, I stared up at the sign. Aside from the scrub trees and brush, it was the only structure in sight – likely the only structure for miles.

The blowing dust, tasting of dryness and desperation, was already striking against my lips. I blinked my eyes, trying to keep my vision clear, and gazed up at the sign. The letters seemed to meld together, the characters twisting back and forth like serpents. Were those numbers in miles or kilometers? Either way, there was no chance that I could walk that far.

Taking advantage of the small square of shade offered by the sign, scant shelter against the blazing heat of the sun, I squatted down. I shrugged off the satchel slung over a shoulder, dropping it into the dust and scree. The zipper was already jammed, but I managed to get it open with a sharp tug.

I dug through the satchel’s contents. A dirty sweatshirt was tossed away into the dirt, as was an old and ratty pair of socks. I reached further into the bag, rooting around. I knew that it had to be in here. I had ended up here – it must have come with me.

Finally, my questing fingers closed on a small cylinder at the bottom of the bag. I pulled it out, not caring as its edges were caught by the other articles of clothing. My hand emerged from the satchel holding a small tube, the approximate length of a soda can but only half as thick. Three wires stuck out from the bottom of the cylinder, and several gold bands wrapped around its circumference. A small red button was set flush in the top. I was always surprised by its weight in my hand.

Rolling the device in my hands, I inspected it carefully for damage. It appeared intact; there were a couple slight scratches on its casing, but the button and the probes at the bottom seemed undamaged. With utmost gentleness, I laid it down in the dust and resumed rummaging through my pack.

The device’s catalyst must be in here; otherwise, it wouldn’t have activated, wouldn’t have brought me here. My hand once again sank to the bottom of the bag, questing. I felt another cylinder, and my hand registered wetness. That wasn’t good.

I hauled the cylinder out, but as I held up the water bottle to the light, the last few drops of precious water spilled out, dripping to leave dark circles on the gravel. “No,” I cried, trying in vain to tip the bottle so that the water wouldn’t spill away.

By the time I found the hole, the source of the leak, there were no more than a few drops left. I stared at the last of my water. Would it be enough? With shaking hands, I unscrewed the top of the bottle, holding its lip just above the three prongs on my device.

The last couple of droplets flowed down the side of the plastic with agonizing slowness. They fell onto the prongs as I watched, unblinking, my heart in my throat.

A drop of water hit the first prong, and a soft glow suffused the first gold ring encircling the device. A heartbeat later, another drop touched the other side prong, and another ring lit up. Only one more!

I tried to hold steady, but my trembling fingers slipped slightly. The bottle’s neck slid, and the last droplet of water fell to the ground. “No!” I cried once again, and I threw the empty piece of plastic aside. I jammed the prongs of my device into the ground, but the drop of life-giving liquid was already sinking beneath the soil.

I scrabbled at the rough dirt beneath the sign, feeling my desperation rising. I shoved aside piles of dust, chasing after that precious water that would mean the difference between salvation and failure. I could see the tiny, dark patch of soil, receding away from me.

One more scoop, and for a few brief seconds, it was visible. I jammed in the prongs of the device, praying fervently. And slowly, as if unsure, that third ring began to glow blue, joining its fellows.

I grabbed at the satchel and stood up. As my head and shoulders cleared the top of the sign, I felt the heat immediately soaking into my skin. I grinned triumphantly at the empty desert and slammed my finger down on the button.

I felt the device vibrate slightly in my hand. The desert around me shimmered, blurred, and I felt an invisible hook in my gut jerk upwards.

My triumphant grin spread across my face as the world dissolved around me. Briefly, I wished that I hadn’t stolen the device before they had installed a way to aim, to pick a location. But the device could take me anywhere. They’d never be able to catch me. I could always keep moving, always stay away, and they’d never find me.

A few seconds later, as the world once again began to resolve around me, I felt the familiar nausea rise. I wasn’t sure, but I thought that it was getting worse. We had tested the device and had never seen any ill effects. But no one had used it as much as I. I bent over and put my head between my knees for a moment, covering my eyes with my hands. After a deep breath, the queasiness was gone. I sat up and looked around.

Once again, I was in a desert. My heart sank. But I could see a man-made structure a couple dozen yards away. I squinted through the haze rising from the dust, trying to read the words on the sheet of metal.

“GUNBARREL HWY”

I was sitting at one of the tables in the cafe, sipping on my coffee, when she walked in the door. Now, I’m not one of those creepy folks that goes to a cafe just to eyeball the local talent. I was there with my laptop in front of me, procrastinating on tackling one of my research papers. I figured that I could get another half hour or so of time spent not doing work before Hector’s nagging would dig deep enough into my conscience to make me get back to work.

Thunder boomed as I hurried up the steps towards the house.  Rain was falling down in sheets, somehow managing to slip through the cracks in my oiled coat and trace cold trails down my skin.  I clutched my satchel tighter to my chest, praying that the water wouldn’t seep inside and blur the hand-written pages of my precious book.

Reaching the front door, I held up my hand to knock, but the action was unnecessary – the door swung open, and a tall and imposing young man stared out at me.  I could hear loud noises coming from inside the house past his bulky frame, but he blocked my vision.  I estimated that he had to stand well over six feet tall, every inch of his body covered in gleaming, sweaty muscle.

“Pizza?” he asked.

“Um, no,” I replied.  “Intervention?  Demonic possession?”

The man stared down at me for a minute, and then his furrowed brow cleared.  “Oh, yeah, that crazy chick!  Come on in, dude.”  He stepped aside, and I entered the house.

As I cleared the entrance, I was hit by a blast of humid heat.  The gatekeeper behind me shrugged.  “Sorry about the temp, bro,” he said.  “Heater’s been on the fritz, and better to have it going full blast than not at all, right?”  He elbowed me and winked.  “Gets the chicks stripping down, I’ll tell ya that much!”

I ignored this comment, shedding my coat.  The house was busy, and several other brawny young men were standing around, holding red plastic cups and chatting with young women in various states of undress.  I clutched my holy book closer.  I truly was in the den of sin, I thought, but I must be strong; I am here to stamp out the evil that has arisen, and I will not shirk from my duty.

The man who had let me in tapped me on the shoulder.  “She’s upstairs, dude,” he said.  He twisted the brimmed hat he wore on his head around to point backwards and headed up the stairs, shouldering his way past several clusters of giggling young women.  I followed him.

On the second floor, the man led me down a hallway, and I couldn’t resist glancing into several of the open rooms on either side.  A wide variety of activities seemed to be occurring; in one room, I saw two pairs of men and women standing at opposite ends of a long table.  They appeared to be throwing small balls back and forth.  One of them tossed the ball into a red cup on the opposite end of the table, and everybody let out a raucous cheer.

Turning my attention forward again, I nearly collided with my guide; he had stopped outside a closed door, his face looking concerned.  “Dude, I hope you can help,” he said.  “She was totally normal, doing shots of Jaeg with Brody, and then she just started shouting out some sort of crazy babble and telling us that we were all going to join her in Hell.

“We thought maybe she was just one of those crazy vegan chicks at first, ya know?”  He smirked and elbowed me in the ribs again.  “In need of some hot meat delivery, ya know what I’m sayin’?  But she kept on screaming ’bout evil and wouldn’t take her top off, so we tossed her in Hayden’s room and called you.”

“How did you come to find my number, if I may ask?” I asked.

The man cocked a thumb at the door.  “She was shouting it,” he replied.  “At first we thought she was giving us her digits, but then when we texted, you called back.”

I reached up and patted the man on the shoulder.  “You did the right thing, my son,” I told him.  And then, bracing my shoulders, I opened the door and stepped inside.

At first, looking around, I thought that I was at ground zero of a tornado’s wreckage.  The floor of the room was covered in assorted clothing and garbage, and more items were tossed over the backs of chairs and onto the blades of the ceiling fan.  It took me a minute before I spotted the possessed girl, squatting in the middle of a large and suspiciously stained bedspread.

The girl’s abnormally pale white face, colored only by her blood-red eyes and lips, looked relieved when she saw me.  “Oh, thank Lucifer!” she said, her voice deep and croaking.  “Priest, you gotta get me out of here!”

I kept a safe distance, my book at the ready.  But something wasn’t quite right about this situation.  “State your presence for being here, foul daemon!” I intoned, but there was a hint of confusion to my words.  This wasn’t how possessions normally went.

The girl rolled her eyes and tossed a lock of her blonde hair over her shoulder.  “Ba’elzamon, corruption and claiming damned souls, all of that,” she griped.  “At least, if the damn summoning had worked.  But this stupid bitch must have opened her vessel at the same time.  Total fuck-up.  Now, can you, like, exorcise me already?”

My sense of unease deepened.  “You are claiming souls here?” I asked, glancing around.  Judging from what I had seen, these people were certainly damned – but nobody seemed worth a personal visit from a demon from Hell’s very bowels.

“Like, as if!” the demon replied.  “Look, I’m supposed to be inside the Italian ambassador right now, other side of the country.  But this stupid bitch, like, totally managed to puke out the words of the completion ceremony at the wrong time, so now I’m here!”  She pulled a few strands of blonde hair up in front of her face.  “Look at this shit.  You can totally tell it’s fake from the roots!”  She turned her attention back to me.  “Now, make with the holy book, the water sprinkling, all that, so that I can get out of this stupid meat shell and back to Hell.  This whole operation’s, like, a total flop.”

This was certainly irregular.  I opened up the book, but paused again.  “Maybe I shouldn’t banish you,” I said slowly.  “Perhaps being stuck here is divine choice, a punishment for the evil you have committed.”

The girl blinked at me a couple times.  “Oh.  My.  Gawd.” she said slowly.  “Listen, priesty, just ’cause I’m trapped in a body that’s mostly tits and ass doesn’t mean I still can’t pull out some hellfire and corruption.  Although honestly, this place is such a pigsty that I think my burning it to the ground would actually be an improvement.”  She pointed her finger at a half-empty glass bottle of liquor on the room’s desk, and it melted slowly into a pool of bubbling molten glass.

I shook my head.  “No,” I said with growing conviction.  “I’m not banishing you back to Hell, where you could cause further damage!”

The girl opened her mouth again angrily, but paused, tilting her head.  A cunning look flashed across her face.  “You’re, like, sworn to a vow of chastity, aren’t you, priesty?” she asked, her tongue darting out like a snake over her lips.  “Maybe it’s time to give up that oath…”  And before I could respond, she reached up and tugged her skimpy tee shirt up over her head!

This girl had, apparently, chosen not to wear a bra to this house party.  I felt my eyes magnetically pulled to the girl’s tits, standing out from her chest like a pair of ripe oranges.  I opened my mouth, but only wordless stammers came from my throat.

The topless girl crawled forward across the bed towards me, her tits hanging down between her arms, her ass up in the air behind her.  “Come on, priesty, let me see what you’re packing under that robe,” she purred.  “I’m such a bad girl!  I need to be punished!”

Before I could react, she was on me, her hands like claws as they pulled and tore at my garments.  “Give me that dick!” she hissed.  “I’m, like, totally hot for you!”

Her razor-sharp nails sliced through my clothing like, well, razors.  Panicking, I hurriedly flipped my holy book open, reading off an incantation.  My voice jumped an octave as I felt those fingers grazing my hips, running up my exposed thighs, but I didn’t lose my place.  I spoke the rest of the incantation in record time.

Now, all that was necessary was the holy water.  I fumbled for the canteen, at the bottom of the bag.  The girl was now pressing her naked chest against me, hissing something about being “Daddy’s bad little girl.”  My fumbling fingers finally got the cap off, and I hastily upended the canteen over the demon’s head.

Water coursed down, soaking the girl’s hair and, I was ashamed to notice, flowing down her back to soak through her equally skimpy fabric shorts.  As the fabric was soaked through with holy water, I could make out a “T” outline of underwear.  I pulled my eyes up and tried to take deep breaths.

The girl sputtered, flopping back on the bed and twisting.  Steam rose from her naked form as the holy water saturated her soul, driving out the demonic presence.  Finally, her eyes cleared, color returning back to her face.  She glanced around, down at her nearly naked form, and then up at me.

“Well, not my worst fuck,” she said, her eyes roaming over me.  “So have you got protection?  Or do you wanna, like, risk it?”

…

“Problem solved!” I shouted to the giant bro who had been guarding the door as I bolted out of the room.  “Possession totally cleared up!”

Despite my hurry, the man still had time to notice my state of partial undress.  “Looks like she gave you a good thank you, huh?” he leered.

I didn’t bother to respond, taking the steps down to the front door two at a time.  From behind me I heard the girl let out an enraged shriek.  “You could, like, at least give me your number!” she howled.  “Tease!”

I paused at the front door.  “Listen up!” I shouted, making the men and women in the room turn towards me.  “Next time you have a demonic possession – call someone else!”

*Author’s note: I have no idea if this is funny or not – but it was certainly very strange to write…*