17: Slasher's End...and Mine Too?

The Slasher lunged at me.

Still with the pitchfork in my back, I rolled to the side. The Slasher pounced onto the pole that I'd tied the pitchfork to, making the pitchfork curl further into my back in a particularly painful way. Then, to my good fortune, it slipped out.

I caught a glimpse of the end of a hammer that was stuffed into a pile I'd made while setting up the room. I grabbed it and whipped around, ready to slam the thing into the Slasher's face.

The Slasher was two steps ahead of me. The pitchfork dove toward the floor.

Two of the prongs hit the side of my foot and dug in. It felt like someone had dropped a 50 pound weight on it. The pitchfork had no trouble tearing through my skin and muscles. My back arched and my chest pushed forward as I wailed out in agony. Every muscle in my body seemed to tense, except my hands, cause the hammer slipped right out and bounced as it hit the floor.

The Slasher left the pitchfork in my foot, I supposed to keep me from going anywhere. It reached into its cloak and, and as a magician would reveal a pair of doves, the Slasher revealed its metallic blade, already splattered with dry, rust-colored blood.

I spent a moment trying to pull the pitchfork from the floor, before realizing the uselessness of my efforts. I have to say, I was surprised. The board it was stuck through surely was just as decrepit and crappy as the rest of the church.

This must've been what it was like for a fox in a trap, looking around desperately, not knowing exactly how little its chances were of surviving. I picked my hammer back up and held it before me, using it like a shield. It spurred a new thought. I didn't need a weapon. Just a shielded!

Beside me, in the pile the hammer had been in, was part of an old tin gutter. I grabbed the gutter with my free hand, forced it before me just in time to catch the Slasher's attack. The blade went right through, just as I had so cleverly planned. Unfortunately, it also went through the palm of my hand, so that I saw the end sticking out of my skin.

Shit, shit, double shit!

Despite the super-fail, I tried to use this to my advantage. I twisted my wrist so fast that the blade slipped from the Slasher's grasp. I turned my hand so that the handle of the blade faced me, and dropping the hammer to free my unharmed hand, I pulled the blade from the gutter and my other, pain-filled hand. Now I was armed. I only had one usable hand now, but it was better than the nothing I'd had before.

The Slasher didn't seem to be taken off guard by my quick maneuvering. It jumped on top of me, scratched at me with its yellow fingernails.

I took a few stabs, but the cloak was flying around and so in my face that all I managed to get was the cloth. While amidst the struggle, I thought what a bitch Carrie was for just sitting around while I was getting mauled by the creature that she and her friends had released from another dimension.

A loud clang echoed through the room, and the Slasher dropped onto me, its black cloak covering my eyes.

The Slasher was incredibly heavy, as I figured it would have been based on its size. I tried to push it off me, but having one hand uselessly curled up, and the other trapped under between my own and the Slasher's body, I didn't get far.

The weight lightened as the Slasher rolled off of me. Carrie, shovel in hand, had pushed it off. It didn't take me long to realize that she was responsible for the creature's demise. It was the second time she'd saved my ass. I felt bad about thinking she was being a lazy bitch. Truth was, I kinda owed her.

She grabbed the half-pitchfork, half-cultivator that was still nailing me to the floor. "You ready?" she asked.

"Ready for what?"

She ripped it out of the floor and my foot. I wailed again, even louder than I had when it had first gone in.


Carrie didn't give my pain a second of her time. She got up, hurried over to a pile of kerosene drums, picked one up, and headed for the Slasher, who was already starting back onto its feet. I'd set the drums that still had kerosene together. It had been part of Leslie's instructions. She had said that we'd need to burn the corpse in order to get rid of the monster for good.

Carrie quickly emptied at least a gallon of kerosene on the Slasher before the drum ran out. She dropped it on the floor, headed back for another.

"Just burn it!" I exclaimed.

Carrie hesitated, but as she saw the Slasher was now nearly standing again, she knew I was right. She reached into her pocked, whipped out the lighter she'd used to light the candles in the cellar, and sparked it to life.

I don't know if the Slasher was aware of what was about to happen, but before she had a chance to touch it with the lighter, it turned back to me and lunged again.

We rolled around on the floor. It clawed at me, while I stabbed at it with the blade. One of my stabs was a success. I drove into its side. It wailed like I had when it'd stabbed me with the end of the pitchfork. Although, its wail sounded far more animal-like than mine had. As I pulled the blade out to stab again, I noticed that it was covered in a thick, syrupy, crimson blood. Not so different than people blood.

I stabbed at it again. The creature grabbed my wrist with its mangled, blistered hands. I struggled with it for a moment, before realizing that fighting its strength was useless. I turned to Carrie, who was just watching us, wide eyed. Sometimes she could be so useful, and then there were times like those. "Carrie!" I shouted, trying to snap her back to reality.

"What?!" she called back, genuinely seeming not to know what to do.

"Give me the lighter!"

She hesitated, like she needed to think about it, but then shook herself from whatever thought she'd been trapped in and tossed the lighter across the room.

It landed a few feet from my reach. I wasn't about to give up on the blade, as the moment I let go, I knew the Slasher was just going to slit my throat. I leaned and leaned towards the lighter, till the middle finger of my crippled, bleeding hand was just inches from it.

As the Slasher's strength intensified and mine quickly dwindled, I slid out from under the Slasher and released the blade. I whipped my good hand around and grabbed the lighter off the floor. I turned back around as the Slasher was coming at me with the blade.

I scoffed at its pathetic blade.

"Fuck you, douche," I said, ready for my triumphant moment. I started the lighter.

"JASSSOONN!!!" Carrie shrieked. "NOOOOOOOO!!!"

Half a second passed before I realized that my entire body was now soaked in kerosene, from having been rolling around on the floor with the Slasher.

"Shit," I said, as flames rushed up my arm and across my chest.

I was dead. But I wasn't going down without that son of a bitch. I leaped forward and jumped at it with my good foot. Flames were practically shooting off me, so when I was as far as a foot from the creature, it caught aflame as well. It stabbed the blade into my shoulder.

We shrieked together as I rammed the Slasher into the wall, which had been so destroyed by termites and age that it broke open. We fell out of the church, into the cool night. I, of course, wasn't feeling the cool night. The fire covering my body was keeping me plenty warm.

I didn’t see what happened to the Slasher. I was too busy screaming in agony as I watched my flesh turn from a light brown tanned look to ash-black.

At some point, the flames reached my eyes, and it felt like fluids were just pouring from my sockets. I was completely blind and in a devastating amount of pain. I flailed about in vain, feeling like nails were being driven into my skin from every angle. My nerves and muscles twitched about.

And then…I blacked out.