Bat Out of Hell Part 3

This story continues Bat Out of Hell, Part Two

****

“I don’t want to go Upside!!!” Misery whined at Eek Beak in their dingy 15’ x 15’ hovel, a gift showing the astonishing generosity of the Boss.  Misery continued whining. “I said I don’t want to go Upside.  I’ve already been there lots of times.”

     “You always enjoyed it before.”

     “It sucks.” Misery wailed over and over.

     While using six of his eyes to check out Misery in Tri-Stereoscopic vision, Eek committed another cardinal sin saying a heartfelt, silent prayer to you-know-who, begging Her, “Please let the rumors be true.  Let me be able to tell Misery, just once how I really feel.  Please You-Know-Who, please just once.”

     Misery’s scream pierced Eek’s revere. “Are you listening you worthless Demon? Are you even listening?”  Then Misery wailed even louder if that were possible, “And we have to go in twenty four hours!!”

     Eek wasn’t really listening but heard every word Misery screamed and shrieked for the last hour, though he wished he hadn’t.  “I heard you.”

     Eek then agonizingly chipped another small piece off his already shattered lump of a heart, roaring at Misery, “You should be in my kitchen, pregnant with the neighbor’s child cooking me dinner!  The only reason your not is because you are uglier than a witch hag and can’t even beg the neighbor for a pity fornication!”

     “What are you going to do about it?” Misery said glaring at her husband.

     So Eek stood up, understanding Misery’s request and smashed her across the face hard enough to drive anyone through half a mile of concrete, anyone that is except a succubus.

     To Eek’s surprise Misery didn’t scream at him about being a pathetically weak Lesser Demon who should be demoted to Minor Demon status or worse, she was immediately in all four of his arms kissing him over and over.

     The first time it happened a month or so back, the wife loving sinful, perverted fornication thing, Eek knew his Immoral Soul was doomed to spend all eternity in Salvation which brought a creeping feeling of dread over his exoskeleton every time he thought about it.  Eek also thought Misery did it because she wanted to blackmail him or planned on publically denouncing him like any normal succubus would.  But Misery never whispered a word.

     The second time, recently in his office, Eek had no idea why Misery was fornicating with her wife loving (she had to know) pervert sinner of a Demon husband and considered going straight to the Unholy Temple and demand a priest listen to his Denial and then berate him.  He didn’t go because he knew it wouldn’t save his Immoral Soul from Salvation and Misery berated him better and far more often than the priests and his succubus wife didn’t even charge him for it.

     After finishing their third foray into wife loving, perverted and sinful fornication only an hour before they had to head Upside, Misery burst into tears and ran from their hovel.

     Eek stared, all twelve of his brains stuck in neutral.  He’d never seen Misery happy, but the real problem is how could he know?  A succubus cried if they were happy or sad, making things confusing to say the least.

     The most terrifying, horrific thought entered Eek’s brains and he considered the impossible.  “what if Misery loved him? What if she ran out of the hovel both happy and sad. And why?”  This type of advanced thinking rattled all of Eek’s brains at once.

     Eek then committed such an outrageous sin, so unforgivable and unspeakable it couldn’t be the number one cardinal sin because no one could, or would, ever speak of such a thing. 

     Eek said a prayer, out loud to You-Know-Who for someone else.

     Closing all eight of his eyes and turning his monstrous head upward, Eek begged You-Know-Who, “Please, not Misery.  She hasn’t done anything wrong. Don’t bless her and doom her Immoral Soul to Salvation. Please. Please.”

****

     Zinkie did not want his tiny furry head smashed in, for the third time that week nor did he want his beady eyes rolling around the floor for the second time in as many days.

     “Hooch.  Hooch.  Hooch.  Give you some.  Give you some. Give you some.” Zinkie quickly said.

     Flink stopped and curled and uncurled his fist, over and over thinking.  He hadn’t had hooch is more eternities than he could count but he also wanted to smash stupid Zinkie’s head in.

     “Good stuff. Good stuff. Good stuff.” Zinkie encouraged Flink.

     The first time a Demon smashed Zinkie’s head in, shortly after arriving in the Downside, he thought nothing could hurt more.  After waiting in the Downside infirmary for more than 4 hours with his head caved in, brains and blood leaking all over him, Zinkie discovered having the butchers un-smash his furry head hurt ten times worse.  But Zinkie needed his wonderful brain if he was ever to get out of the Downside so every time a Demon smashed his head he dutifully went to the Downside infirmary and waited several hours for the butchers to stop slaughtering innocent victims they served in the Downside cafeteria and squeeze him in.

     The Demons all laughed at how stupid, stupid Zinkie was going time after time to have his head un-smashed.  Most Downside residents stopped going after the second or third head smashing preferring to keep their bashed in, leaking guts head rather than suffering the pain of having them un-smashed.  Keeping a smashed head also had the added extra benefit of allowing the resident to wander around in a daze, marginally less aware of where they were.

     Flink decided to negotiate.  “Stupid Zinkie small.  Flink big.  Stupid Zinkie give Flink most.”

     “OK.OK.OK.” Zinkie said letting out his breath.

     Zinkie fluttered to the corner where a large Rube Golberg still lived.  He pushed a button and stared at the contraption as it puked out a vile, stinking bubbling concoction into a truck size cup.

     Flink picked up the cup disappointed at the small size and giving it a sniff, downed the multi-bonded over 4000% proof alcohol flavored with a dash of sulfur, infused with essence of bat-fart.

     Flink slammed the cup down, nearly squishing Zinkie bellowing, “That good.  More. You give Flink more.”

     While the bat and Demon waited for the cup to refill Flink eyed Zinkie. “Where you get all this stuff?  You not suppose to have?”

     Zinkie put one furry little hand on each side of his little furry head and wiggled it back and forth.  “So stupid. So stupid. So stupid.  Zinkie forgot.  Zinkie forgot. Zinkie forgot.”

     “You really are stupid.” Flink said downing the second cup of Demon brew.

     Shortly after downing the third cup of Demon brew Flink leaned against a rocky blood stained wall barely conscious mumbling inane and unbelievable excuses for his perversions. “S’not fair.  I’s sick.  Can’ help myself. Not m’fault. Victum of sieeety.”

     Zinkie slowly shook his head side to side. “Crazy place. Crazy place. Crazy place.” 

     He then fluttered carefully to Flink and ever so slowly pulled a large key, bigger than himself, from the Demons carapace. Tiptoeing, he dragged the heavy key over to his digital molecular 3D scanner, took a detailed image, then tiptoed back and returned the key to its proper place.

     Zinkie then removed a piece of paper, a Higher Demon travel authorization from Flink’s carapace, giving a quick “thanks, thanks thanks” after seeing it was already signed and took a detailed scan before putting it back.

     Using his Atomic Print Small, a device he invented before coming Downside, Zinkie printed a key indistinguishable from Flink’s and a Higher Demon authorization as needed, giving him total access to the Downside.  He dragged the key around on a rusty old wheelie cart, covered with someone’s flayed skin with a leaky mop bucket full of dirty water on top.  No one ever looked under the flayed skin.

     The pervert Higher Demon Flink spent large amounts of time in Zinkie’s production facility, getting stone drunk on Demon brew as he whined he wasn’t responsible for his own behavior.

     Even better Flink ordered the Perv-patrol, of which he was captain, to keep everyone else out. With help from Flink’s drunken stupor and the Perv-patrol the stage had been set for Zinkie’s escape.

     Early on Zinkie considered using various isotopes of uranium, plutonium, zeepium, and cronkium to power his bat-mobile but none carried the ooooomph needed to escape.  He needed to find some way of taming Hellfire.

****

     It had to happen.  Eek and Misery watched the bloody guillotine swing lazily above them, hanging by a frayed, creaking hemp rope looped over a rickety bent beam of wood.  On the chopping block they both watched in silence as a Demon pushed a wooden lever and the awful cutting blade crashed down.

     Eek liked that part most of all.  The moment the blade cut his Immoral Soul from Downside casting it out, as if no more than trash, sending it down a twisting, turning high pressure sewer drain.

     The Immoral Souls of Eek and Misery were vomited roughly out the Gates of Hell, sounding like a Demonic tea kettle come ready, into the Death Valley desert.

     “Why is it so cold?”  Misery whined staring at the sun high overhead. “And why is it so dark?” she screeched, sending the nearest twenty screech owls, who weren’t near, running for cover.

     “At last” Eek thought but couldn’t bring himself to say the ‘I love you’ words.  What if Misery didn’t know how he felt?  What if she recoiled in abject horror when he said them? What if the rumors weren’t true and he hurt or killed her?  Eek remained silent.

     “This place sucks, I told you.” Misery yelled several times as they began walking through the freezing cold 110 degree barren desert land.

     “Did the Boss give us anything to help?” Misery hollered at Eek.

     “Just a bunch of these worthless, green and white rectangles of paper, with the symbol 100 in each corner.” Eek pulled a huge wad of cash from his exoskeleton. “Dunno how these could help.”

     “What the fornication?” Misery wailed. “That’s all he gave you?”  Then, in not quite such a loud voice Misery suggested, “We better keep them.  I can’t see them being any use but you never know.”

     Eek wanted to get rid of the heavy bundle of worthless paper but put it back in his exoskeleton wanting to make Misery happy.

     An hour later Eek couldn’t help himself, unable to wait any longer, he tested the waters. In a braying voice he shouted, “I’m not certain, but I think your fat ass is less saggy today than yesterday.”

     Misery started to flinched then stopped.  “Eek?” She whispered hesitantly.

     Not quite bellowing, Eek said. “I think, maybe, only a little, but I might, for a minute, like you.”

     Misery again started to flinch but stopped, then glanced around everywhere except at Eek.

     “Maybe for more than a minute.” Eek whispered.

     Before Eek could say the ‘I love you’ words, Misery was in all four of his arms saying them over and over.

     “I love you Eek.  I have from the minute I first met you.  I know you won’t want to talk to a pervert like me ever again and I know you only fornicated with me to torment me, but it wasn’t torment.  I wanted to do it, every time.  I love you. I love you. I love.”

     All twelve of Eek’s brains felt stuck in quicksand. Even his third and fourth brains, the best of the bunch, which slowly, over eons, let him understand and interpret if not fully master the succubus language, refused to think.

     Misery continued wailing sounding different than normal. “I knew if we came here together I would have to tell you.  I’m sorry Eek, for being such a pervert.”

     Eek used one of his zwoks to softly brush a strand of Misery’s black hair from her tear stained face. “I love you too Misery.  I always have.”

     No one wants gory details. Suffice to say Misery and Eek spent the first, second and third day entirely occupied in the fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh foray into sinful, wife and husband loving each other, perverted fornication rituals, each foray starting immediately after the previous one finished.