The Original Page That Started It All.... By Bill Bradley

The story thus far....

The scene is a nice hilly area with people sitting in foldable chairs. A man in a suit is standing with a microphone. A particularly noticeable thing about him is his bright yellow tie with thin red stripes across it. “Good evening everyone. My name is Announcer. This is the story. The story of a hero. A hero who happens to be... Anti-Hero. One very noticeable thing about Anti-Hero is that... well... he’s always on fire. He doesn’t feel it or anything, and he is commonly blamed for building fires and forest fires. So, he is on fire. Anyway, in this day and age, people often opt to carry weapons with them. A.H. chose his weapons awesomely. Upon his selection, his eyes peered upon two swords connected by a long chain. He dubbed them: Sword Chucks.” A man walks on from nowhere, clad in a Holiday Inn bath robe, cheap flip flops, and the smell of booze. “Ah, there’s Billy Bob, one of A.H.’s friends.” Announcer approaches BillyBob, who’s unshaven and looks as if he is suffering from a very heavy hangover. “Hey, BillyBob! How’s the Necromancy life going?”
Billy Bob grumbles in reply.
“Er....ah.... Sounds great.... Um....see you later Billy Bob!” As Announcer spoke, BillyBob pulled out a large blue tome and flipped through the pages, searching for a specific passage. Finally finding the desired page, he reads aloud: “Filiolus supremus , EGO queso vos sumo mihi ut meus humilis urbs!” With that, a large blue portal opened, and BillyBob stepped into it, and then it closed, leaving no trace behind.
“You see, BillyBob wasn’t the average Rathman follower. When in high school he was the best student. He was very smart. Often he’d get wrapped up into too many activities. But, when ever he had a down moment, he’d be on his computer, playing Diablo II. He played it an awful lot, which is probably why A.H. and the group nicknamed him the ’Happy Necromancer.’ But then, he went off to college. Oh boy did that change him. BillyBob took up beer, weed, cocaine, speed, and he even once did heroin. But that life is now behind him. Currently he is trying to find his purpose in life. One of the last members of the group is Jim. Casually named Jim. He’s got a tad bit of an anger problem, which is only worsened by his license to carry loaded guns with him and his flare for dramatic entrances.” As if on cue, Jim walks by the Announcer and the audience. He is a tall slender, pale man with shoulder length hair. He was clad in black, with a black cloth long coat, obviously to conceal his portable arsenal.
“Hey Jim. How’s it going?”
“What the fuck do you want you little prick?” Retorted Jim.
“Well, I wanted to know how you’re doing in life, but, more importantly, I just wanted to introduce you to the audience.”
“Nothing can introduce me…but this!” Jim pulls out an automatic shotgun. His coat goes back to reveal a bandoleer of shotgun shells. He takes aim at one of the audience members and shoots. The elderly woman that the weapon was pointed at flew backwards out of her chair, blood spraying everywhere. The audience is shocked at first, but then they begin to panic and run. Jim lets out a cackle of maniacal laughter. He proceeds to exterminate the audience. After the third murder, Announcer runs behind a body for cover. He yells over the screams over horror and pain.
“You see, Jim shoots everything!” The shotgun stops shooting, and Jim pulls out a semi-automatic pistol. He approaches Announcer.
“Is this what you wanted, you filth? Well, this is now your end.” Jim chambers a round and shoots Announcer in the chest.
“Remember, he has an anger problem...”

Ocean waves crash upon the shore. Rocks crumble off of a cliff into the water. An avalanche occurs, killing twenty people. A midget is run over by a clown car. Announcer is dead.

Then, a truly remarked scene occurs. The clouds part, revealing a heavenly light that embraces the massacred audience and Announcer. Their bodies rise up to the sky.
“Oh no you don’t!” Shouts Jim as he pulls out a heavy machine gun. He pulls the trigger, launching 7.62 millimeter rounds at the floating corpses. One by one, they drop back to the ground. At last, the ammo belt is empty, and all of the bodies are sprawled out on the grass. Then, the earth begins to rip apart. Souls from the bowls of hell begin to crawl out of the crevice in the ground. Slowly, the bodies are picked apart, and drug under ground to the depths of Hell. The last soul is dragging Announcer. “This is what you deserve, you waste of life.” The hole seals itself up. Jim goes to a metal chair, and pulls out a wooden case. He takes out a long wire brush and begins to clean his weapons of death.
Then, Anti-Hero walks up and sees Jim
“Hey Jim! How’s it....whoa!” A.H. looks around the area, and notices the pools of blood everywhere. “I won’t ask what you did if you don’t tell me.”
“Hey A.H.! Sure, I won’t waste my breath.”
“Good. I was feeling like getting some coffee? Wanna come with?”
“Sure, as long as its good coffee. Because if it isn’t....”
“Don’t worry Jim; I know what you’ll do.”