by Spirit Of Vengeance, Grimm, GoozX and Sonhaven
Monroeville, Pennsylvania:
The bike rolled to a stop in front of a dingy storefront bearing a sign reading the Dragon's Den. Vengeance slid off the seat and walked toward the front door. As he reached for the knob, the door opened of its own accord. Stepping into the darkness, he was assaulted by a stream of what could only be described as pure hate. There were visions of human sacrifices, dark rituals to summon the vilest demons hell could muster. The being known as Vengeance staggered back at the onslaught. Then, as quickly as it began, it ended.
Looking around the dusty shop, he saw row upon row of shelves holding books on every aspect of the occult, from the relatively harmless New Age magic to the ancient evil embodied in the Necronomicon. The place reeked of vengeance not wrought. The atmosphere of pain was like a ton of sand being dumped on him all at once. Pulling his coat tight about his body, Vengeance headed for the rooms at the rear of the store.
Finding a staircase, he headed into the depths below the bookstore.
Elsewhere in town, Grimm's forehead exploded with pain, and he began to reel to one side, almost passing out, before being caught by Priest.
"Hey, man, you okay?" the soldier asked.
Taking a moment to stop at the old oak dresser that the room had been furnished with, he pulled out a black extra-large T-shirt (with the sleeves cut off) and put it on. He picked up a battered copy of Jack Kerouac's Dharma Bums (he had found it late one night while rummaging through the library) and settled down on the old couch in the far corner of the room next to the window to relax and read.
No sooner had he started the first paragraph, when he bolted upright, a searing pain bursting in his head, the word Vengeance burning in his mind spelled out in red flames. Grimm fell backward onto the couch, unconscious.
Regaining his strength, Grimm pulled himself back up to his feet and began moving again. "I'm fine," he said.
"Yeah, right," Priest replied. "First sign of life we see in this town, and you almost keel over like a dead... uh, well, you know," he said, rubbing at his bearded chin as if in thought.
The sun began to sink into the horizon.
As the group approached the center of the town, Tayden spotted something. "Hey, I think that's it. That looks like the sign that Dr. Quantos described."
Dirk Bell's eyes looked off to the side. He seemed to see something. "Hang back a moment. I think we have a problem."
"What is it?" the former angel asked, more than a little intrigued.
"I've had this feeling, ever since we got here, like something was watching us. And something or someone is..."
"Dirk, look out!" Priest called from behind, as several decayed forms lurched forward on the group from all sides.
"What the hell is this, a George Romero wet dream?" the gunslinger quipped as several once-living bodies lurched toward him. "Ah-ah, sweetheart, not today," he said, shooting a hole into a grasping decayed hand.
Grimm's axe began to hum slightly and glow. Grimm felt a strange sense of deja vu for the second time in a series of moments.
As the group formed into a semi-circle while surrounded by the zombies, Grimm's mind flashed back again.
Grimm turned and began silently walking toward the area where Dirk still struggled for his life against the inhuman beings. The axe in Grimm's hand began to hum and glow with pure blue energy.
By the time Grimm made his way back to the impromptu battlefield, the entire room was bathed in the incandescent blue light. The combatants stopped and peered toward the source of the light.
And as for Dirk, he could swear that just for a moment, Grimm was different. That he was all skeleton, covered in flowing black, tattered robe, with large wings outstretched behind him. In that moment, throughout the Castle and various realities, a chill passed through all living beings. A king fell dead of a heart attack in battle, several corpses pulled themselves up out of their graves in a cemetary in a small Pennsylvania town...
"Shit!" was all the undead biker had time to say before the horde closed upon them.
The four men stumbled back in unison, attempting to make it to shelter, any shelter, but the zombies were quickly growing in numbers. Dirk cocked back two .45s, he tossed Tayden another. Priest had his own homemade weapon ready. The shine off Grimm's axe showed that he was ready for the extra company.
Dirk looked around. "Zombies. You kidding me?"
Grimm looked left, then right. The zombies were gaining numbers very quickly. A feeling in the back of his mind confirmed that he had something to do with this.
The gang paced to the side, the zombies moving with them but not attacking yet.
"Wait for them..." Priest said, clutching his gun, "...we don't want to set off any unneeded violence."
"Unneeded?" Dirk bellowed back. "They are brain-eating zombies, ya fuck."
"Actually, I believe they just crave flesh."
"That really helps put my mind at ease."
One skinny zombie jumped at Dirk and was met with two shots in each eye. The body lingered back into the crowd and landed back on its feet. It continued its movement toward the gang.
"Crap."
"Priest, look out!" Tayden yelled as zombies from a higher ledge jumped down on top of the large man.
A shot fired in the air, almost like a firework, and all hell broke loose. The zombies attacked all at once, bullets and blades flue as the team formed a wall of protection around each other. Priest and Grimm stayed in front as Dirk and Tayden covered them from behind, clearing the way to a local shop. They were so close to the book shop, yet so far away.
Dirk glanced down to reload and noticed a small chunk missing from Priest's arm. That can't be good.