Sid & Kat

We need two more!” Sid shouted, wrapping up the last Molotov and placing it in the backpack.

“You’re gonna have to give me thirty minutes then, Mr. Overkill” Kat shouted back from down the hall.

The small four apartment block had been abandoned for years and since they’d been squatting there for months they hadn’t been bothered by cop or crackheads, surprisingly enough. Sid took full advantage, ripping through floors and securing stolen ladders for quick access between each floor when Kat wouldn’t let him steal the pole from the local firehouse. They did steal a half dozen fire extinguishers and two sets of gear though.

Heading to the kitchen, he noticed an old 40oz close to half full. Snatching it up, he examined it for cigarette butts.

“Only one so it’s still good.” Sid proclaimed to no one but the adoring crowd he always imagined in his mind. Opening the fridge, he found what was left of some cheese, bologna, and ketchup. Throwing it on the counter, Sid searched the cabinet for any bread. Finding two slices, he took one and after surgically removing the moldy bits, he stared intently at the single slice of bologna.

Placing the cheese with the meat and wrapping it up gently, he placed it in the center of the fridge and set a lone cigarette on top.

‘She needs to eat’, Sid thought. He knew her habits. She’d grab the cigarette and only then notice the “meal”

Splattering the cheese and bread in the murderously red ketchup, he imagined something better and wolfed it down, sloshing the beer to wash it down. He needed his strength. Tonight was gonna be busy.

Boot steps coming down the hall, stomping hard to a 70’s punk rhythm, Kat came around the corner into the dirty living room. She smiled at Sid, slouched on the couch and tossed her Molotov creation at him.

Eyes wide, he leapt forward tucking it in his arms like a baby, then a second later he lobbed it deftly back towards her.

“Hot potato!” he shouted happily.

The smile dropped from her face like she saw death, which was kinda true. Before she could move, Sid had covered the distance and reclaimed his baby. Kneeling down, he swaddled it tightly and placed it gently with it’s siblings.

Kat stood there holding the other bottle tightly. Sid held out his hand gesturing for it and her response chilled him and turned him on at the same time. She was cackling. Beautiful teeth on full display, a manic happiness replaced the fear in her eyes. She was a woman possessed.

“I should smash this in your face and set you on fire” Kat said between her bouts of witchy laughter.

Sid lurched to his feet and stepped towards her, slipping his scarred-up arm around her hip and pulled her close. Her laughter stopped but her smile didn’t falter. Looking down at her he couldn’t help but grin.

“Damn babydoll, you know I’d burn for you, but don’t we have so much more chaos to enjoy first?” Kissing her forehead, he took the firey baby of doom from her.

Giving a playful growl made her calling him an asshole, cute.

“This might be our last nap” Kat told him as she turned to walk down the hallway, pulling her dark tank top off and tossing it. Sid watched her like a hungry lion as she disappeared into the room. Seconds later her shorts flew into the hall.

‘Last nap together,’ he whispered to himself. Let’s make it a good one.

The sirens started howling though the city streets. Sid’s eyes popped open as he jumped out of bed and rushed his clothes on. He looked over at Kat’s beautiful body sprawled precariously on the bed. The scars on her body were as new as the incessant screeching of the sirens. They were beautiful reminders of the ever-simmering rage deep in his soul.

Creeping into the living room, he gathered the bag, laced up his steel-toed boots and was slipping out of the window when he heard Kat shout.

“ASSHOLE!” The tiny slap of her feet on bare wood followed close behind her curses.

He looked down at his watch.

5, 4, 3, 2….

Kat’s face was serious as she rounded the corner, fully dressed. Bag in hand. “You’re not stopping me.”

“I wasn’t trying to babydoll, or I would’ve tied you to the bed again.”

“Stop being sweet,” Kat hissed.

They walked side by side down the street feeling the waning sun on their faces. People were few and all were scurrying into doors, looking at the couple but not questioning if they knew they were walking to their own graves.

Burnt out cars had become their yellow brick road, marking the main path they’d been scouting over the past few months. They kept their pace as Sid checked his watch again and again while comparing it to the sun.

Timing was everything.

They crested the hill in between what used to be two beautiful houses, staying hidden between their shadows. Once well-kept lawns for the wealthy returned to a wild grassland, which would hopefully work towards their advantage. Kat pulled out a set of binoculars and scanned what lay ahead. The trees stood legion, but Sid and Kat had learned what slept beyond.

“The pets are going to wake the masters,” Kat whispered, watching the same half dozen things lurch like humanoid sloths up into the center of their perimeter. Sid saw the goosebumps raise on Kat’s skin, making her scars look funny. He smiled. She wouldn’t see it and he liked it that way.

They stalked their way downwind and traveled through the woods as silently as panthers in search of a meal, when they came across the boneyard of poor souls who got caught when these things fell upon the town.

He remembered it like it was yesterday. They had been coming out of the club singing about anarchy and love when the screams came from the distance. The explosions lit up the night like pyrotechnics at a concert. People scattering like roaches with nowhere to hide. Rushing out of the burning buildings, confused and just trying to survive.

Sid and Kat just kept passing the half empty vodka bottle.

“Terrorist?” Kat inquired.

Sid chuckled. “Maybe the Jesus freak’s apocalypse.”

It had landed on top of Kat before he could finish his sentence. He froze in shock. Mind blank. He swung the vodka bottle across its head.

The humanoid beast didn’t stop slashing at Kat’s arms,totally unphased.

Panic started to set in to rage. He couldn’t let this demon keep hurting her.

Grabbing the thing’s hair, exposing the base of its neck, he slammed the broken stump of the bottle down, again and again.

“Now you wanna react huh?” Sid shouted maniacally and tried to push the bottle out the other side of the thing’s neck.

Kat didn’t hesitate to crawl backwards as fast as her bleeding numb limbs could be forced to move. It looked human, excluding the obscenely long fingers; talons, thought Kat; and its teeth, glinting in the fire light by the hundreds. It’s howls of anguish finally subsided as the dark green fluid gushed from the thing’s neck. She stared up in awe as Sid dropped the thing from his grip. He was breathing hard, looking in every direction with a focus and determination she’d never seen on his face.

Looking down at her, he removed his shirt and wrapped the worst of the two arms after helping her stand.

“What the –?” Before Kat could finish, Sid put a finger to her lips.

“Let’s get home, then worry about everything else.”

“What’s next?” Kat’s question brought Sid out of his own mind. She knew the answer but couldn’t think of anything else to ask him to break that look on his face that’s become all too common since this started.

Sid looked over at her, his scowl softened a bit looking into her eyes.

“You trap the pets, and I’ll go see the owners. Give ‘em a super sexy wake up party.”

Kat giggled. “You wearing your cheetah print thong?”

“Nope.” Sid shook his head. “I’m wearing the tiger print one.”

“Bastard.” Kat had to cover her mouth to stifle her laughter.

The house was tucked into the hill camouflaged with trees, a normal cabin for a higher tax bracket. Well-crafted. At one time a refuge, now a living graveyard.

Kat flanked the cabin and moved up by the hill, silent as a cheetah, staying close to the rough-hewn foot path and less than two minutes later she was watching the small cave entrance. Setting her pack down and squatting beside it silently sliding the zipper open, she couldn’t help but grin at her work.

“Uncle Fester, you haven’t let us down yet.” She prayed silently over the makeshift explosive she’d learned to perfect over the months.

She didn’t take it out just yet. She was waiting on the signal but her rage at these things welled up inside of her soul, screaming for an end to this nightmare. Her fingers touched the hatchets on her belt.

‘Bad kitty, no claws.’ Sid’s voice shouted in her head. She stifled a laugh thinking of his hard eyes and slightly down turned lips. The scars. Kat knew she’d see him again, on this plane or the next.

She placed the art piece at the entrance and went slowly into the tunnel.

He’ll understand.

Sid placed the pry bar between the door and frame, wrenching it with full gusto. The door answered with an unenthusiastic pop, then swayed open slightly.

“That was anticlimactic.” Sid thought bitterly.

He tried futilely to see into the abyss.

“Shit.” He fumbled in his backpack and a moment later his flashlight cut through the dark like a Lightsaber. Sid spotted his prize, then scanned the boarded-up windows tracing his light along the wall until he found a light switch.

Tracing it with his fingers, he had a feeling it’d be as dead as his soul; but still had to…flick.

“Well, shit.”

The room flooded with light. The thing on the bed didn’t move. Sid turned off his light and replaced it in his hand with a hatchet and confidently started to skip towards the prone figure. Its hand moved slightly. It didn’t stop each confident stride. The hand raised a tiny inch more.

It pissed Sid off. He could see the blood dried and crusted on its claws.

The swing was quick and less than precise as it connected in its forearm a couple inches above the wrist.

“Son of a –” The third swing took the hand off. Black fluid more consistent with wet mud than blood, oozed from the stump.

Sid climbed on the bed and crossed to the other side. Eyeing the other hand.

“I can get it in two.” Sid challenged himself, looking down at the creature’s face, watching every movement…or lack thereof.

The spirit of the Nature Boy burst from his lungs as the first swing slipped between the wrist joint.

“Whoooah!”

The strikes to its neck were what opened its eyes.

“Well, hello Ol’ Blue Eyes. I’ve been looking for you!” Sid shrieked with glee.

If looks could kill, Sid would’ve been left in ashes, but with the rage in his heart he would’ve came back as a phoenix.

Dropping down onto its sternum, he leaned forward. His knees raised between his head, his boots flat on the bed like some distorted horror insect. He gently slid the hatchet into the wounds he created just a couple minutes before.

“Do you know what joy is? Hell, do you know what I’m saying?”

The creature didn’t respond. Sid didn’t care. Nothing was going to stop this.

“I’ve never been a joyful cat, ya dig? But finding you and a whole batch of you shit weasels, Man, oh, man!”

The alarm on Sid’s watch snapped him back to business even though his smile never faded. He placed his palm on the back of the hatchet and gave it a push. The creature’s mouth flinched faintly.

“Aw, that hurt a little bit?”

Rolling to his knees, he came eye to eye like a bad rom com. Sid slid his hand into a small pouch attached to his spike studded belt.

“This is an ice cream scoop. And this, shit weasel, is an ice pick. Their intended purposes before you assholes showed up…”

A flash of when they shared their first ice cream froze him. Pissed him off.

The creature’s mouth flinched again as the ice pick slid between the outside orbital bone and its juicy blue treat. The goal was to pry them ever so slightly apart. Then came the ice cream scoop. Sid hit the optic nerve and went to jabbing with tiny movements until it gave way.

Sid let the creature look into his own eye and squished it just a tad between his bloody fingers.

“That took two minutes, so before the other one – ” He didn’t finish. Sid looked down at the creature and popped the severed eyeball into his mouth like a mint. He bit down, the oily juices oozing down onto the creature’s face. This would be the last thing the creature would ever see before Sid took the other eye. Treating this one a bit more delicately, he placed it in a small glass jar half filled with vodka.

Moon walking from room to room, Sid lobbed one Molotov after another straight into the wide eyed ugly faces of the things. He could tell they had heard his ritual, then the woosh of the flames.

As he stared down at the last one, he saw something he didn’t expect.

“So, you bastards know what fear is, eh?”

Lighter to rag. Sid’s eyes glinted as the flames leapt up.

“Good to know.”

Smash.

As soon as the fluid hit the creature’s face, the fire chased behind. It ate into the flesh, the eyes popping as its fluid boiled and erupted like a tiny Mount Vesuvius.

He spun around at the entrance, the smile hurting his face. But he couldn’t stop. He bent over, shuffling in the strange rhythm of the 1980’s; singing a mashup of a Huey Lewis song.

“It’s hip to be dead…” Sid spun 180°, tossing the last flaming bottle into the entry way while not losing is shimmy. Even when he heard Kat’s laugh behind him, Sid just reached back, reminiscent of a painting long forgotten. God reaching for man.

‘Something like that,’ Sid thought as her unusually soft hand fell into his. Spinning her around to be face to face, he shook his head.