Chadpocalypse - 3:5 Stockholm Syndrome
By mac_ashton
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3:5 Stockholm Syndrome
It took every ounce of self-control to not to continue attacking the cherub. In the end, the only thing stopping him was the thought of somehow being saddled with someone worse. Chad tried to shake the apartment from his mind, but it had stuck there like glue. He hadn’t thought about that part of his life in years. The copious and continuous stream of drugs and alcohol tended to help with that.
She didn’t kill herself, he reminded himself. She just left. That’s another cruel trick of Hell. Chad stood motionless in the lobby while the cherub went over details of when the building would be open for leasing and what the cost would be. In the end, Sharon passed him a small pamphlet and they were back on their way. Chad had officially lost complete track of time and had no idea how long the world above had left. The apocalypse was far away, eclipsed by his own pain.
“That was a hell of an experience,” piped up the cherub, still chipper as ever.
Chad grunted. It was the most he could muster.
The cherub bit his nails nervously. “Oh, come on, don’t be like that buddy, you know I was just doing my job.”
“Burn me, break me, stab me, or shoot me, but if you take me back to that building, I will find a way to hurt you.” Chad’s voice came out in a low growl he hardly recognized. He hardly recognized anything about the world anymore. Was this all there was going to be for the rest of eternity? What would happen to him if the world did end?
“Oh, don’t worry, they would probably have just raised the rent on us every month until we had to leave anyway. I’ve just never been one to turn down a free sam—” The cherub’s voice drifted off and he wrung his hands together. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was going to be like that.” He thought for a second and pulled out the stopwatch.
Chad reflexively flinched away, knocking a man to the ground who was immediately trampled by the ongoing march.
“No, no, no.” Rather than clicking the button to set the timer off, the cherub flicked a switch and turned the watch off altogether. “As a sign of good faith.”
Chad looked at it, wondering where the trick was. “That the appeals center?” Ahead of them, a squat brick building stood out of place amongst the glitz and glimmer of the rest of the city.
The cherub pulled out the map. “Sure is.”
“Well, at least we’re making progre—” A firm hand clamped down on Chad’s shoulder. He tried to walk forward, but was being lifted into the air. Whatever it was dug its nails into Chad’s shoulder as they climbed higher.
“What the hell, guys?!” On Chad’s right, the cherub was similarly struggling, in the grip of a large demon in a black suit and sunglasses. Together, they were lifted high above Gentrification City.
Chad winced in anticipation, assuming whatever had picked him up was planning on dropping him unceremoniously back toward the ground. Instead, they continued to climb until they were level with some of the city’s larger skyscrapers. The demon’s flight path leveled off and they were heading toward a large building with an iron-wrought five-pointed star mounted on the side.
“We’re not doing anything wrong. Check his torture record!” shouted the cherub. “He’s being tortured well and good, I swear to you. Put me down!”
“Let me guess, you’re the inspector?” Chad asked the demon carrying him.
“You’ll find out soon enough, maggot.”
“Polite enough.” Chad did his best to focus on the present danger, but the apartment kept swimming before him. Surprisingly, the demon didn’t drop him, but instead dipped towards the glass-walled building before them. Wind rushed past Chad’s face as they picked up speed. As far as deaths went, being tossed into the side of a building wouldn’t be all that bad. He had just been torn to shreds while falling from a building after all. The idea of another reset sounded appealing. He hoped that it might do something to help his mental state.
Moments before they were going to hit the glass, two floors of it slid aside to reveal a landing platform. The demons cruised through the hole in the building, dropping Chad and the cherub on a concrete platform. They didn’t even bother to land, and instead turned around, diving back down the side of the building. The glass snapped shut behind them, leaving Chad and the cherub trapped.
Chad looked around at the room. Aside from the concrete platform, it was lavishly furnished. Black banners with variations of the five-pointed star done in red were hung floor to ceiling. Bright lights had been sunk into alcoves between the banners, giving them a reverent glow. It reminded Chad of what he had seen in the history textbooks about Nazi rallying points, and he supposed they were in hell, so it might not be that far off.
A door opened at the far end of the room, and a female demon dressed all in black with a smart black cap to match walked in. As with the banners, a red, five-pointed star was emblazoned on her shoulder, and beneath it several markings that looked military in nature. A pistol hung on her hip, but Chad was more interested in the crooked sword slung across her back. It looked jagged and rusty, meant to hurt rather than kill efficiently.
“I already told your collectors, I didn’t do anything wrong!” shouted the cherub, mustering what indignance he could in his pitiful squalling voice.
“Ah, but it’s not them who makes the judgments on who’s done something wrong, is it?” In a blinding motion, she pulled the pistol from her hip and shot the cherub in the knee. The concussion rang through the room echoing back a thousand times.
“Mother fucker!” screamed the cherub.
“Hurts doesn’t it?” asked Chad.
The woman turned to him and shot him in the head. Pain, there was so much pain, all centered in one point. Would it ever end? Chad blinked and was standing over his own corpse. He rubbed at his forehead. “Who cleans all these up?”
“Numb to death already?” asked the woman. “That was fast.”
Chad thought back to the apartment and wondered how many times he would have to die to equal that pain. “After a while it starts to tickle.”
She shot him again.
Chad’s body fell onto Chad’s body and a brand new version appeared standing above the two of them.
“You’re a slow learner.”
“It’s a problem I’ve had for a while.” Chad rubbed at the spot in his forehead again. The pain was gone, but the feeling of lead being stuck in his skull remained.
The woman shook her head in disbelief.
The cherub moaned on the floor, holding his bleeding knee.
“At least this one can still feel pain. I trust you know who I am little man.” She walked over to him and put a heeled boot down on his leg.
He cried in agony. “An inquisitor,” he yelped.
“That’s right, an inquisitor, and one of the best.” She dug the heel deeper into the wound.
Chad stood back, enjoying it despite himself.
“So, tell me, my little friend, what were the two of you plotting?”
Chad looked down at the pathetic suffering creature beneath her boot. Despite all the little asshole had put him through, he felt a certain affection for the cherub.
“I told you, we weren’t plotting anything.”
And somehow, he’s not snitching. Chad had expected the little bastard to roll on him immediately if they got caught. It wasn’t much, but Chad didn’t expect much from a demon.
The inquisitor reached back for her rusty sword and unsheathed it. It glinted in the light and dripped a coagulated brown liquid to the floor.
“I mean, hell, at least clean it,” Chad offered.
The inquisitor turned to him and swung the sword at his mid-section, spilling his intestines onto the pile of his previous forms.
“Oh god, that’s gross,” he spluttered, falling to the floor. The pain and sensation were unimaginably horrible, but Chad sank into it, knowing that it was all going to be over soon. Nothing was ever quite as sharp as that first cut. The inquisitor had also cut deep which meant he bled out fast. Before he had much time to contemplate what organs were on the ground before him, he was standing up in a brand-new body.
“I’m just saying, the rusty sword doesn’t really fit the clean aesthetic of the rest of your uniform. Now, a katana, that’s some regular Bond movie villain shit.”
The cherub looked at Chad in disbelief.
“You’re infuriating, do you know that?”
“Yeah, a few people have mentioned it.”
“It seems you’re keener on talking than your little friend, so tell me, Chad, what exactly were you planning.”
Chad thought through the situation. He could continue to needle the inquisitor and hope that she got annoyed enough to make a mistake, but he suspected he wouldn’t be able to kill her even if she did. Instead, he chose a second, more diplomatic option. “Well, we were planning on trying to avert the apocalypse.”
“What the shit, Chad?” squealed the cherub.
“Shut up, or you’re losing an arm,” snapped the inquisitor.
“Yeah, tiny, pipe down, the grownups are talking.”
“The apocalypse, eh?” A glint of interest permeated the bloodthirsty glow in her eyes.
“I doubt you’ve heard of me, but I’m Chad, slayer of War, Famine, and Pestilence.” Even as he said it, Chad couldn’t help but feel a little proud. “Damn, saying it out loud, I killed every horseman that wasn’t Death. Not half bad.” A smile cracked across Chad’s lips.
“That was you?” asked the inquisitor. Her blade didn’t lower, but Chad thought he saw her grip slacken a bit.
Out of the corner of his eye, Chad saw the cherub hovering a few inches off the ground and moving closer. “Yeah, it was me.” Chad puffed out his chest. “Didn’t get much for it in the end, other than a one-way ticket down here, but it was fun while it lasted. I suppose divine intervention can only help you once in a while.”
The inquisitor spat at the mention of the divine. “Working for God then, eh?” Smoke hissed from her mouth as she said the word. “That woman and her band of holy pricks are always looking down on us. Well, thank you for your honesty, Chad. I think we can find a special rung of Hell for someone of your stature.” She licked her lips in anticipation.
At the same moment, the cherub yanked the gun out of her holster and pulled the trigger four times in quick succession. The first shot hit the inquisitor in the spine. Her eyes went wide with surprise as she dropped to one knee and staggered. The second and third shots went in her back and popped out of her chest, leaving thick, gory holes. “W-what the fuck.”
“Surprise!” squealed the cherub and put a final round in her head.
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Comments
Your imagination is genius.
Your imagination is genius. So now the inquisitor gets a taste of her own medicine.
Jenny.
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