Quest of God I: Attack of the Killer Demon
By Ken Kaze
“GEORGE!!” yelled the one they called… the idiot. The one man with the density of a brick. The one man who has ever accomplished something claimed physically impossible, operating on a day to day basis… without a brain. Yes, brainless. Okay, so maybe that’s metaphorical, but still, you understand my point. It was the only scream Ken Kaze could manage to produce.
“I can’t see you in all of this-- UGH!” Darkness had overwhelmed the surrounding environment of Kaze. Who knew what the reasoning of him being cut off mid-sentence was. Knowing him, he probably walked into a wall. He might’ve choked on his own breath. To tell you the truth, I hope that bastard just broke down into a seizure. Or maybe he had a heart attack. Better yet, maybe it was a spontaneous combustion.
“DAMN YOU DARKNESS! DAMN YOU ALL TO THE HEAVENLY HELL THAT YOU CAME FROM!”
Shit. Oh well, couldn’t hurt to hope, eh?
“Need a hand?” an unknown, brisk voice asked.
“Wha-- who? Who is that? GEORGE?! IS THAT YOU?” the idiot of all idiots replied swiftly. A piercing clap was heard as the containment from which Kaze was in became illuminated. It was a room about thirty feet by thirty feet. Below his feet was a black and white tiled floor. Crimson walls surrounded him on all sides. Two wooden, plain doors were stationed on complete opposite corners of the room, caddy-cornered. There was no sign of where the source of the voice had come from. The only person, better yet, the only object in the room was Kaze himself.
“Hey! HEY! WHERE’D YOU GO?! WHERE ARE YOU AT?!” No one replied to his cries. “Wait a minute. How could you be here one second, and then the next second you disappear? Ooooh, ooooh, I know! YOU’RE HOUDINI! HARRY HOUDINI! GANGBANG ME, GEORGE! HOUDINI IS IN HERE! HEY HOUDINI, WHERE ARE YOU AT?! ARE YOU INVISIBLE?! DO YOU HAVE ONE OF THOSE INVISIBILITATIONALIZE CLOAKS LIKE HARRY POTTER?!” His obnoxious shrills were the only replies to his questions as his message echoed throughout the room.
“What? You don’t want to answer me? FUCK YOU, TOO, HOUDINI! I HOPE YOU DIE! I HOPE YOU ROT IN THE ETERNAL PITS OF THE HELLACIOUS HEAVEN FROM WHICH YOU CAME FROM, YOU COCKSUCKING, ANAL INTRUSIVE BAST-- UGH!” He dropped to the floor instantly, as if a supernatural force were reckoning with him.
“HUSH! I’m tired of listening to you speak. Would you please shut the fuck up and enter that damn door on the other side of the room already?” demanded the still unknown voice.
Kaze was laying on his backside, spread-eagled. He pondered for a second before he climbed up onto his feet while brushing himself off. “Okay, okay. SAW-REE! Jeez-la-frickin’-weez!” he complied with the demands set forth. “But first, tell me your name. I want to know if you are my good buddy George or not. Or maybe Waldo!”
A lightning flash struck right before the ground from which Kaze stood on. “Refer to me as…” the voice trailed off, coughing and wheezing. “Refer to me as…” the voice once more trailed off, this time now choking.
Kaze glanced around the room wondrously as the voice echoed throughout the contained room. Confused by the echoes, he responded, “Why are you repeating yourself? STOP! STOP IT NOW! FRICKIN’ A, I SAID STOP!”
After the wheeze-fest of the anonymous voice finished, it addressed Kaze once more. “Damn those shite-tasting, Quizno subs. I’m never going there again. Subway all the way.” The speaker of the voice cleared his throat. “Anyway, Mr. Kaze, you can refer to me as… God.”
“God? God?! GOD?! YOU’RE THAT FUCKER THAT NEVER ANSWERED MY PRAYERS WHEN I WAS A LITTLE KID! YOU NEVER GAVE ME THAT BOYFRIEND THAT I ALWAYS WANTED! You know, the one in fifth grade with the brown curly hair--”
“YES! I know whom you speak of.”
“Yeah, him. AND PLUS YOU NEVER GAVE ME THAT PINK UNICORN I WANTED ON MY SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY!”
“Because unicorns -- AREN’T -- REAL!” The anonymity, who referred to himself as God, sounded frustrated. “LOOK, KAZE. SHUT -- THE -- FUCK -- UP! AND WALK THROUGH THAT FUCKING DOOR OVER THERE, RIGHT FUCKING NOW!”
“Wait a minute, God--”
“NOW!”
“How do I know you’re really God, huh? How do I know that you’re not really Henry Row… er, Rowing… Rowing Water? Yeah, that’s it. How do I know you’re not Henry Rowing Water trying to trick me into walking into that room? It might be a death trap of some sort. Some sort of crazy contraptionanation of evil, mutated turkeys and bunnies that want to feast on me. How do I know that I won’t walk into my mom’s bedroom… watching her being mounted by my grandpa for the quadrillionth time now, huh? Answer THAT, God!” Kaze had said, ignoring God’s request whilst thinking he had “gotten” God.
God pondered for a second. “Uh… because I’m God?”
Kaze shrugged. “Works for me.” He approached the door on the opposite side of the room. As he grabbed the door knob to turn it, he promptly jerked his hand back. “OW! WHAT THE FLYING FASHOOKAFISTS?! I GOT ELECTRIFREID!”
A soft, hearty laugh was heard escaping the windpipe of God -- if he had a windpipe. “’Tis was only a joke, Kaze. Calm down. Grab the door knob again and proceed into the next room.”
Kaze obeyed God’s commands. He grabbed a hold of the door knob once again and twisted it… only to immediately jerk his hand back again. “GOD! IT ATTACKED ME! IT ATTACKED ME AGAIN!” He was fuming.
God laughed at Kaze’s idiocy to fall for the same joke twice. “No, Kaze, you imbecile. You fell for the same joke--”
God was abruptly cut off as Kaze had gored the living hell out of the door. He now stood above the unhinged door that now lay on the floor. He leaped into the air and did a somersault leg drop onto the door. “That should do it,” he inquired as he stood up, brushing his hands off. He now realized he had ventured into the other room. He examined the crimson-colored, marble floor, as well as the black and white tiled walls; a complete polar opposite of the previous room he was just in. However, something unique made this room stand out from the other. Something quite different.
A second being. Someone, or something was in this room with Kaze. Something snarled in the opposite corner from which he stood in. He was too terrified to glance. Something foul. Something vile. Something vicious. He was curious. He HAD to look. As they say, curiosity killed the Kaze! Er, cat. It stood six feet, three inches high. Could’ve weighed anywhere from two hundred fifty to two hundred sixty five pounds. Foam oozed out of its mouth. It was a fiend so malicious, not even the Malice Man himself, Duke Williams, could compare.
The rabid beast approached the paralyzed Kaze. He could feel his insides churning. With every nearing inch, Kaze attempted to walk backwards into the former room from which he came. The demon’s eyes did not let him accomplish this, however. Its eyes had him locked, allowing the fiend to venture into Kaze’s inner most sanctum. The creature emitted a sadistic tune that was meant to drive the mind of Kaze insane. It was a powerful tool the predator used to torture its prey right before it took its last gasping breath.
“WHO LIVES IN A CAGE AND TEACHES MORALS TO YOU AND TO ME?
FRANKIE THE HAM-STER!
WHO HAS MORALS BIGGER THAN THE WHOLE GIANT SEA?
FRANKIE THE HAM-STER!”
“NOOOOO! PLEASE STOP SINGING THAT AWFUL TUNE! IT’S DRIVING ME NUUUTS! PLEASE MR. BIG SCARY FREAK HAMSTER GUY, DON’T EAT ME!”
“WHO TEACHES US TO BE STRAIGHT AND NOT TO BE GAY?
FRANKIE THE HAM-STER!
YUCK! YUCK! That’s me!”
Frankie the Good Morals Hamster smothered Kaze with a gigantic… …hug.
“NOOOO, YOU EVIL BASTID! STOP TRYING TO SUFFOCATE ME WITH YOUR NASTY FURBALLNESS!” Instinctively, Kaze kneed Frankie in his hamster balls, sending the Good Morals Hamster to his knees instantly, which caused him to wheeze in pain. Kaze then proceeded to kick at the head of Frankie, only to kick it right off!
“HOLY SHEET! I SHOULD PLAY BASKETBALL WITH A KICK LIKE THAT!”
Kaze instantly scurried across the room to the opposite corner where another door was stationed. He hurriedly grabbed a hold of the door knob, twisted it, and entered the third room.
