FaceFic

The dragon stares menacingly from the ramparts watching the brief mortals scurry past, anticipating … something. Time passes not swiftly for one ancient and immortal, yet he wearies not. The wait will prove its worth. Attention usurped by the distant sound of wings, he looks up and spies his mate; luminous, lithe and majestic. She alights at his side and he succumbs to her, helpless in her embrace, as legend is born.

“Sir! They’ve turned around for another attack!” “Bring all cannons to bear, Ensign.” “Aye Sir. Targeting online.” “Incoming Transmission: ‘Surrender or die’… Nice to see they’ve worked on their social skills…” “OPEN FIRE, ALL BATTERIES!” “AYE SIR!” “INCOMING MISSILES!” “HARD ABOUT!” “Aye Captain!” “Brace for impact! In Three… Two… On…” The transmission reached the newly lifeless Earth, 23 years too late…

“They’re inconvenient is all I’m saying. Sure, I can get from A to B fairly quickly and they’re great for avoiding traffic – especially in the larger cities where no-one ever looks too closely anyway – but when all is said and done, they just get in the way. And,” he continues, “have you ever tried to find a suit to fit over wings? It’s not easy!” I laugh quietly, my eyes glowing red. Angels, whiners the lot of them!

The world didn’t end with a bang. Disappointing. I had always hoped it would. But instead it slowly choked, while weeding out the very elements that could have lead to its salvation. Like a parasite consuming its host, the creatures upon it devoured everything in their sight. Poor, beautiful, Pyraxia never stood a chance. An interesting exercise… I think I might give it another go. I think I’ll call this one Earth.

While visiting family in Hell,
I followed a hideous smell,
And found on a rack,
With a knife in his back,
A member of their personnel:
A demon who’d wandered the Earth
Who told me his sin without mirth:
Of a lass he’d surprised
In his angel disguise,
Resulting in virginal birth.
The son she produced, you may know,
A couple of eons ago,
Was the source of the game
That is mainly to blame
For the bad overcrowding below!

With the “girl reporter” safe now on a rooftop, the Hero was about to leap skyward, so she said, “Stop.” Ever courteous, he stopped. “Don’t you think,” she began, “we should stop playing silly games? You must know I want you, and if I’m reading that bulge in your red shorts correctly, the feeling’s mutual.” The alien smiled ruefully. “I’m sorry, Miss. I only look human. The bulge? It’s my secondary kidney.” And away.

The silicon chip inside her head gets switched to Overload. “I guess that’s it then.” She looks out over the city, from a 15th floor window. Using one hand to steady herself against the wall, she uses the other to keep her innards, well, in. The timer counts relentlessly down and down… soon the chip will trigger an explosion, and these bastards will pay for that they did to her son. “Soon now Jeff, I’m coming home”

“Fly my pretties!” Her precious monkeys took flight as the cackle rang out over the hills. Damn the meddlesome little girl and her feral dog! Revenge was at hand. She would kill them if she had to. She caught her reflection in the mirror. Worn and weary pointed hat: black; long dress worse for wear: also black; cloak: black. It wasn’t much, but it was what she had, and any outfit could be redeemed by the right shoes.

When Jesus returned, he gave a press conference on the White House lawn. The Reverend Ted Pheltcher was there, with “Jesus Hates Queers” placards, his family in tow. Jesus manifested a Walther PPK and placed a bullet between his eyes. The President was aghast: “What about God’s infinite forgiveness?” “Yeah,” said the Son of Man. “We didn’t anticipate ol’ Ted when We decided that. How are you with otherwise infinite?”

This next patient was a mess. Burns over sixty percent of his body, armless, maimed. I’m a gambling man; I figured if anyone would think of a different first question, it would be him! I explained the rejuvenation process: nanomachines, DNA-led reconstruction, a total rebuild. Of course we could make some adjustments. His eyes flicked to his lap. “How about… a little extra down there?” Damn — another twenty bucks.