CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

BATTLE ROYAL

As Phil came crashing through the window, the boards covering it literally exploded inwards, sending showers of splinters onto Ryan and the others. A larger piece of board hit Rashid in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious and sending him to the floor. Shawn tried to leap out of the way, but only managed to trip himself, landing on top of the coffee table and smashing it in the process. Startled, Morgana jumped back , dropping the box that she was holding onto the floor. As the lamps and bottles inside shattered, their contents mingled inside the box.

Phil stepped up to the unconscious form of Rashid and lifted the machete over his head. Grabbing Shawn's mace from the floor, Ryan, managed to deflect this effort at a killing blow. Phil lost his grip on the machete as it flew out of his hand, hit the floor, and slid beneath the couch.

Ryan started to take another swing, but Phil backhanded him and sent him flying against the wall.

Phil lurched over to the couch and, without effort and using a single hand, threw it out of the way.

As Phil bent down to retrieve his weapon, Micki shrieked “No!” and charged him, swinging her sheet wrapped can weapon. Her wild rush of adrenaline allowed her to strike Phil across his right temple. The impact knocked him off balance and sending him reeling about and onto the floor.

Taking advantage of Phil's preoccupation with the flooring, Morgana snatched her box from the floor. “Fuck!” she exclaimed, looking down at it's broken contents. With one deep, determined breath, Morgana threw the box at Phil. Phil swung his arm up deflecting most of the contents. None the less, a mixture of lamp oil and whiskey splashed across his torso, the floor, and the wall behind him.

“A match!” Morgana screamed. “I need a fucking match, now!”

“No... we don't.” Carol said, as she flicked her lighter while pressing down on the hairspray cans' button. The spray streaming from the can ignited in a line of flame that shot at Phil. Fire spread instantly, engulfing Phil's torso.

Phil rolled on the floor violently and snuffed out the fire. Then he stood quickly, stumbling backward against the nearby wall, just as Carol hit him again with a blast of fire. This re-ignited the lamp oil and whiskey cocktail on Phil and on the wall. Fire covered the wall and snaked across the floor. Smoke and the smell of burning flesh filled the air.

“Die, you bastard!” Micki screamed swinging her sheet-weapon at Phil once again.

Phil brought up his arm to block the second blow and managed to catch the end of the sheet in his left hand. The menacing giant jerked his hand back and sent Micki stumbling toward him. Before he could get a grip on her she was tackled in a saving move by Ryan.

Pain seared every nerve in Phil's upper body. He knew he had to put out the fire that was still burning his head and shoulders. He ripped open Micki's weapon, dumping it's metallic contents. Using the sheet as a tarp, he threw it over himself in an effort to put out the remaining flames.

“No, fucking way, asshole. Burn!” Carol wailed at the monster as she raised her lighter homemade flame thrower once again.

Letting loose of the sheet with his one hand Phil snapped it off him and sent the knotted end sailing at Carol like a whip. Even in pain his aim with this new body was impeccable The knotted end of the sheet wrapped itself around Carol's hand. Then he snapped the sheet back, violently jerking her and twisting her wrist and arm in the process. Carol lost her grip on the lighter. It went flying out of her hand, rolled across the floor, and got lost amongst the rubble that littered the floor.

Carol dropped the hairspray can and grabbed her injured wrist. Through pain teared eyes she looked over at Phil with a mix of shock and fear. Then she started to slowly back away.

Not so tough without your itty bitty lighter. Phil thought as he started to walk toward her.

“Hey, Butthead.” He heard to his left. He turned and saw that it came from the bald guy, Shawn. He'd been so focused on Carol Martinez he hadn't sensed his approach.

“Surprise, asshole!” Shawn said, as he swung his newly retrieved mace at Phil.

The nail covered weapon hit Phil square in the chest and dug in. Smoldering cloth tore and black blood flowed from multiple wounds as the mace ripped out of soft flesh. The impact sent him stumbling backward. He tripped over the overturned couch and came crashing down on the floor.

Shawn charged, bringing his mace up over his head to deliver another blow. But when he swung the mace down Phil bought his hand up and blocked the blow.

The mace bit painfully into the palm of Phil's right hand and the impact sent concussion waves shooting down his arm. Phil ignored the pain and forced his fingers to close around the weapon that was now imbedded in his palm. Then he pulled hard and ripped the mace free of Shawn's grip.

Startled by this turn of events, Shawn stumbled back. “Oh, fuck, oh fuck!”

With his free hand Phil pulled the mace loose from his palm. Then he looked up at Shawn with murderous rage.

“Oh, Chief... Somebody.” Shawn exclaimed. Then he started backing up cautiously.

Phil slowly drug himself up. He knew his new body was already starting to heal itself. He was sure he'd recovered sufficiently enough that he could easily tear this annoyance apart. The idea gave him a renewed feeling of pleasure.

“I'm in real trouble here, guys!” Ryan heard Shawn scream. He looked over and watched as Shawn backed away from Phil, who was stalking him with Shawn's own mace in his hand. Though he wished he could do something to help, Ryan knew the only way to help Shawn, or anyone else, for that matter, would be to follow through with what he was doing.

While Carol and Shawn had been keeping Phil distracted he'd been cautiously crawling along the floor over to where Phil's discarded machete was laying. Though it seemed to him like it was taking an eternity to get to the machete, he knew he was only moments away.

Sweat poured off Shawn's forehead as he continued backing away from his pursuer. Phil followed after him, with the mace held over his head, ready to bring down a blow that Shawn was sure would kill him.

“Chief!” Shawn pleaded, looking around for Carol. He saw that she was making a mad dash for the busted bay window. He also saw that Micki and Morgana had made their way over to Rashid and were helping the groggy, stumbling, Egyptian out the broken window as well. So much for the cavalry coming. he thought, I guess this means I'm royally fucked! But then he heard a familiar voice come from his left. It was that Ryan guy.

He was standing, bold as brass, holding Phil's machete at his side. “Hey, Phil.” he yelled.“You don't want him. You want me.” Then he held the machete up for Phil to see. “I've got something you just might want back.”

Phil stopped and looked over at Ryan. His eyes locked on the machete.

“Or are you happy with that piece of crap you've got there?” Ryan asked, sarcastically.

“Piece of....!” Shawn started say, taking exception to Ryan's comment. But then he decided it was better, given the circumstances, not to make a fuss.

Phil lowered the mace and looked at it for a moment. Then he looked up and glared at Ryan.

Relief flooded through Shawn. I guess I'm gonna live after all. he thought happily. Without a second thought, he cautiously, not to attract Phil's attention, started to make his way toward the bay window and freedom.

Fire had covered the entire back wall of the living room and had already made its way past the archway into the kitchen. Ryan had been so preoccupied that he hadn't noticed until now. If I didn't have enough trouble. he thought. For a moment he'd thought there might be a way to use the fire to his advantage. He'd figured if he could keep Phil occupied long enough he could get him trapped in the fire. But then he realized he'd be trapped as well, which was something he hoped to avoid. Anyway, he doubted he'd be able to survive long enough against Phil to give the fire a chance to trap him.

“My god, Phil,” Ryan verbally jabbed, “you're pathetic. Jason would've had a kill by now. All you've managed to do is get the shit kicked out of you by three girls and a geek with an old baseball bat covered with a few nails. You're a disgrace to that mask you've got hiding that ugly mug of yours.” Ryan could tell from the fire burning in Phil's eyes what he was saying was having the desired affect on him. He knew all it would take is a bit more to push Phil over the edge. And he knew exactly what to use. “But that's the thing, you always were an ugly mother. It's no wonder that sweet looking secretary at your work never wanted anything to do with you.”

And he was right. Phil murderously charged him, swinging the mace in a deadly arc front of him as he went.

Ryan jumped to the left and manage to barely dodge Phil's swing. Or had he? He felt his right arm go numb and a warm wetness start running down it. He brought his other hand up and felt his shoulder. Sure enough there was a tear in his flannel shirt. His hand came away stained in red.

But he had no time to dwell on his injury, because Phil spun around and came racing at him again.

Rashid rubbed the back of his head. It felt strange not to have his beloved fez on his head. It had gotten lost in the rubble after the board hit him. His head was still throbbing and the hair on the back of his head was matted with clotted blood.

He was thankful Micki and Morgana had sat him down on the steps leading up to the front door of the house, because he doubted he'd be able to stand for very long. Not as weak as he was feeling.

“You all right?” Micki asked, concerned, looking down from where she stood in front of him. Standing beside her, Morgana also looked at him with concern.

“Yes, of course.” Rashid lied. “If you would, please give me a moment.”

While he'd been unconscious he'd experienced the vision again, but this time it had been in more detail. Now that he was awake the images were beginning to coalesce. He found he was experiencing a disturbing feeling of deja vu.

From where he sat, Rashid could see dirty white smoke pouring out of the broken bay window and a flickering orange glow lit the opening, which he surmised could only be caused by fire.

There were a couple of loud crashes and Rashid saw Ryan come stumbling backward out of the opening in the window. Following after him came Phil, madly swinging Shawn's handmade mace at Ryan. To Rashid's surprise he saw that Ryan had possession of Phil's machete, which he was using to deflect Phil's blows as best as he could. But Rashid could tell that Ryan was having limited success, as noted by the fact that his right arm was hanging limply and had blood dripping down it.

As the battle continued he could see that Ryan was slowly being forced backward toward the writhing hole filled with the white, bloated, Hellworms. Finally,when he was about seven feet from the hole Ryan tripped on a root, fell backward, and landed in the dirt on his butt.

All Rashid and the others could do was give a united gasp of fear and concern as the hockey masked monster came up to the momentarily stunned Ryan. Phil lifted the mace over his head in preparation to deliver a bone shattering blow. He was just about to bring the mace down on Ryan's skull, when he became distracted by the sound of a bone curdling scream that bellowed out from the smoking hole in the side of the house.

Then to everyone's surprise, including Phil's, Shawn came bursting out of the burning building carrying the rusted shovel he'd been carrying earlier. Before Phil had time to react Shawn was swinging the shovel wildly at him. Finally the head of the shovel struck Phil in the back of his scorched head. With a loud crack, the handle of the shovel splintered in Shawn's hands. Phil was knocked forward and fell into the blade of the machete, which Ryan was holding up defensively. The blade was driven halfway into his chest, puncturing his left lung.

No! Rashid's mind screamed. This was part of the vision! Now the scattered images came together---but was it too late?!

Phil instinctively pulled back, ripping the machete free from Ryan's grasp. He stumbled backward a couple of steps, a stunned expression in his eyes. He grabbed onto the handle of the machete and tried to pull it out, but he stopped as spasm of pain shot through his body. He started coughing and black blood dribbled from the lower holes in his mask.

You must do something! Rashid's mind urged him. You must stop this!

He saw Shawn, who was standing directly behind Phil, begin to step back and move away from him. There was no fear in his expression--- what was there was purpose.

I know what you're planning! Rashid tried to stand up. But he only managed to stumble back and landed on the steps again. He knew there was only one thing left for him to do.

Shawn stopped about about ten feet away. Then he began to run at Phil.

“No, Shawn!” Rashid screamed. “You must desist!”

But it was too late.

Hearing Rashid's cry, Phil spun around. It was at that moment that Shawn jump-kicked him. Shawn's foot slammed into the handle of the machete and rammed the blade fully into Phil's chest. The tip of the blade burst out the back of his left shoulder. The impact sent him stumbling backward. He ended up teetering precariously on the edge of the worm infested hole.

“Stop!” Rashid screamed again. But he knew what was going to happen next. And, he knew he was helpless to prevent it.

“Go to Hell!” Shawn shrieked. Then he side-kicked Phil, sending him plummeting backward into the the embrace of the pale, bloated, inhabitants of the hole.

Within seconds Phil was wading up to his chest in writhing bodies. Worms crawled over each other and began to chew through Phil's dark trenchcoat and shirt into his torso. He hysterically tried to claw his way out of the hole, but all this achieved was to agitate the worms further.

Two of the worms reared up and jammed themselves into the eye-holes of the hockey mask. There was a gush of blood from the lower holes and bottom of the mask, followed by a gurgling inhuman scream of pain. Phil's hands grabbed onto the slimy creatures and tried to pull them free, but the worms wriggled out of his grasp and continued boring into his eye sockets. More blood oozed out of the eye-holes of the mask.

The blood seemed to drive the worms into a feeding frenzy. More worms reared up and attached themselves to his arms and the back of his head.

Now completely covered with the knawing beasts, Phil slowly sunk into the hole. As his head disappear underneath his squirming resting place, Phil's right arm shot up into the air. His hand clenched and unclenched continuously until finally it sunk and disappeared into the hole as well.

Micki ran over to her cousin. “Ryan, are you all right?”

“I've been better.” He said weakly, sitting up. “But I guess I'll live.” After a few moments he used his good hand to try to lift himself up off the ground. Micki tried to help, but only managed to bump his injured arm. Cringing in pain, Ryan slowly labored and got up on his feet.

Shawn ran up to him, all excited. “That was awesome.” he told Ryan. “We royally kicked that motherfucker's ass.” Then, without thinking, he lightly punched Ryan in his injured arm.

Ryan clenched his teeth and forced back the scream that threatened to burst out of him. Letting out a pained groan, he stumbled backward, but Micki caught hold of him. She held him up as he slowly recovered his footing.

Looking very guilty, Shawn started to step forward to help. But he stopped in his tracks, because Micki looked at him and glared. “Haven't you done enough.”

“I'm sorry.” he said. “But don't you realized, we did it.” He looked over at the squirming hole. “Phil's toast. It's over It's done.”

“Not quite.” Rashid said from the stairs. “Remember my vision.”

“You must be kidding me.” Shawn said, in a mix of disbelief and fear.

“No. He's quite serious.” came a male voice from out of the darkened woods. Then a transparent figure walked out of the woods, followed by Carol Martinez.

Carol was pale as a ghost and had a dazed look on her face. The figure was leading her by the hand.

When the figure came fully into view Ryan, Micki, and Rashid let out unified gasps of surprise and recognition.

“Lewis?” Rashid finally stated. This was a revelation his vision had failed to reveal to him.

RETURN