Aw, yeah. You know the drill. I find some rad art and write about it. Today’s comes from David Velasquez, entitled “Waking Up to Apocalypse.” Check out David’s DeviantArt page here!
“TREMBLE, MORTAL! THE HOUR OF YOUR DEATH IS AT HAND!”
“Fuck off,” Johnny muttered, rolling over in bed. Another demon alarm clock. It was a cauchemar, of course. Everything they said came out like a roar. A stupid, loud, cartoon villain kind of roar, all growling and snarling and a kid’s idea of scary. Sure, they were fast and they were strong. If they got their hands on you, they’d rip you to shreds, just like he’d seen one do to the Sanders family across the street. Popped the arms and legs off Ben Sanders like he was a toy, and Ben Sanders had been beastmode before the world ended. But steroids and creatine and a home gym were no match for demons.
“I’LL FLAY THE MEAT FROM YOUR BONES!”
“I said, ‘Fuck off!’” Johnny shouted as he pulled his pillow over his head. Every damn day with these things! The screaming had been bad the first day or two, but it hadn’t lasted longer than that. What little there was that still happened, he’d gotten pretty good at ignoring. But the damn cauchemars! There was no way he could ignore someone pounding on his window.
That was how his dad used to wake him up when he’d wanted Johnny to do yard work. He kind of missed his dad, he’d admit, but the sadness just made him angry, and the anger kept him from sleeping, and that just made him angrier still.
The demon slammed its claw against the window and roared in pain as white light seared its unnatural flesh. Under his pillow, Johnny groaned. The stupid light was even harder to ignore than the demon, bright as the sun even though he wasn’t looking at it, had his eyes shut and covered. But that was holy magic, for you, all flash and warmth and fuzzy feelings and what not.
“MORTAL! I DEMAND YOU DISPELL THE PROTECTIVE WARD AROUND YOUR HOUSE AT ONCE!”
“Oh, that is it!” Johnny kicked off the covers, fumbled with the latch on the window. The demon’s lips pulled back in an ugly grin.
“YES, MORTAL! EMBRACE YOUR DOOM! COME AND TASTE–”
Johnny’s hand shot out like a snake, passing harmlessly through the protection spell he’d cast around the house and grabbing the demon by the wrist. It blinked stupidly, it’s eight eyes shutting in unison, surprised by his boldness. Rather than swipe at him with its free claw, it just gave a tug, trying to pull its hand free.
It should have dislocated Johnny’s shoulder. Instead, nothing happened. “MORTAL! RELEASE ME AT ONCE!”
Johnny just smiled. He began speaking the words of power in the forgotten tongue. It was a harsh language, more like animal noises than human speech. Snarls and hisses and growls. You couldn’t help but expose your teeth and flare your nostrils, like some kind of mad wizard. Johnny knew, because he’d had to practice in the mirror to get the sounds exactly right.
It was totally awesome.
Something that might have been fear if it had been on a human face came over the cauchemar. It tried to pull away again, more frantically this time, but there was no breaking Johnny’s magic-enhanced grip. The stupid thing didn’t even try to bark out another order. No “mortal” this or “human” that. Just that dumb animal fear cauchemars always got when they got in over their heads.
With a single sharp consonant, Johnny finished the incantation and the cauchemar burst into green flames. It howled the entire time as it burned down to nothing. Where demons went when they died, or if they even really could die, Johnny didn’t know. But it didn’t matter. The spells were getting easier, his magic was getting stronger, and the cauchemars stayed exactly as stupid as they’d always been.
Johnny looked up from the little pile of ashes that the demon had disintegrated into. Across the street, a group of lemures stood stock still, their big shiny doll’s eyes locked on him. “What the fuck are you staring at!” he shouted at them, and the demons scattered.
Johnny gave a grunt of satisfaction. Lemures were just as cowardly as cauchemars were dumb. He was really starting to get a hand on this whole “end of the world” thing. Way more than when he’d first accidentally caused the apocalypse, anyway. Hell, pretty soon he’d probably be able to fix anything. The answer had to be in one of the scrolls. And if it wasn’t, well, demons were real. Probably the devil was, too. And then Jesus and God must be as well, and they’d have to notice and do something soon, right?
And the demons had come through a tear in the fabric of reality. With a little research, he could probably make a portal and escape to a different dimension or something himself.
Johnny gave one last look around and smiled to himself, closed the window, settled back down on his bed. Yeah. There were a lot of options and he had all the time in the world. He’d fix this thing no problem.
Right after a nap.